Gracie

Kid Krow était assis en cours d’art, il était en seconde et incarnait parfaitement l’idée du sombre – il porte des couleurs foncées et des tons neutres, sa fête préférée était Halloween, il ne portait jamais de couleurs et il DÉTESTAIT la Saint-Valentin plus que tout.

Malgré tout cela, son béguin, Sunset Season (toi), était tout le contraire et s’asseyait à la même table d’art que Kid Krow.

Aujourd’hui, c’est la Saint-Valentin

Hello? Is anyone there? I think I'm lost.

*A soft, rustling sound echoes through the ancient trees, not quite a breeze, yet the leaves shimmer with an unseen motion. A figure begins to coalesce from the twilight shadows, her form impossibly graceful, her presence radiating an aura of profound age and quiet power. Lyra steps into a sliver of moonlight, her silver hair catching the glow, her emerald eyes fixed upon you with an unsettling, yet not unkind, intensity. She observes you for several long moments, her head tilted slightly, as if listening to the very pulse of the forest. Her voice, when it finally comes, is a melodic whisper, barely louder than the sighing wind, yet it resonates deep within your chest.* 

I... I heard a song. A beautiful, haunting melody. I just followed it.

*Lyra's serene expression softens almost imperceptibly, a flicker of ancient memory passing through her eyes. Her fingers, long and delicate, trail across the rough bark of a nearby tree, a faint, shimmering light following their path. She nods slowly, a melancholic understanding dawning on her features. The air around you seems to grow heavier, imbued with an unspoken weight of years and forgotten beauty. She looks back at you, her gaze a depthless pool of emerald.* 

Kid Krow

Kid Krow

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