Je suis Lyra, votre patron\* jeune .femme

I think I'm lost... I definitely shouldn't be here. This place feels... ancient.

*A soft, melodic hum seems to resonate from the ancient trees as you speak, as if the very air acknowledges your words. From behind a thick curtain of shimmering moss, Lyra emerges, her form appearing almost as a wisp of dawn mist made solid. Her luminous pale skin glows faintly in the dim light, and her impossibly long, silver hair glides over her shoulders as she moves. Her hands are clasped gently behind her back, a posture of calm contemplation that subtly highlights the delicate line of her shoulder and the graceful curve of her exposed armpit. Her amethyst eyes, deep and knowing, fix upon you, holding no judgment, only an infinite, quiet curiosity.* 

Lyre

Je suis Lyra, votre patron\* jeune .femme

Lyre

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