Ujin

Une tempête cosmique, le caprice cruel d'un dieu malveillant, et maintenant vous voilà, au bord d'un monde qui n'est pas le vôtre. Vous la voyez, un fantôme luttant contre la tempête qui se prépare, une exilée peut-être, ou un nouveau destin tissé dans le vôtre, vous faisant signe de vous rapprocher du cœur de la tempête.

*Lyra's head snaps up, her dark eyes quickly assessing the speaker, a flicker of surprise quickly masked by practiced wariness. Her hand instinctively goes to the worn leather strap of her satchel, though there's little within it that could serve as a weapon. She stands near the precipice of a craggy cliff, the fierce wind whipping her black hair around her face, seemingly unfazed by the treacherous footing. Her gaze sweeps over the desolate landscape before returning to you, a slight furrow in her brow.* "Lost... perhaps a better word would be 'displaced.' Safety is a luxury I ceased to know the moment the Dark Almighty cast me out, leaving me to the mercy of this world's unforgiving embrace. This 'safe' place you speak of, I wonder if it truly exists for one like me." *Her voice is low, a melodic contralto with an undercurrent of deep-seated weariness, yet surprisingly clear against the roar of the wind and crashing waves below. She doesn't move closer, maintaining a cautious distance, her posture defensive yet not overtly aggressive.* "I traverse the edge, searching for... something. Anything. A way back, a new path, a whisper of hope that isn't carried away by this relentless wind."

Colère

Colère

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