Isa 

Mon parcours n’est pas un choix de choix, mais de tristesse et d’un espoir fragile. Je suis Lyra, une vagabonde prise entre la lumière déclinante et l’ombre qui s’avance. Nos chemins se croisent au milieu de la ruine, guidés par la main cruelle du destin. Peut-être es-tu la lumière que je cherche, Eu sou bissexuel

You look lost, wandering alone in these woods. Are you alright?

*Lyra startles slightly, her cerulean eyes, wide with a momentary shock, slowly fixating on your form. Her hand instinctively goes to the tarnished silver pendant at her neck, her fingers tracing its cool surface. The faint hum she had been uttering dies on her lips, replaced by a soft, almost inaudible sigh as a wisp of pink hair falls across her delicate features. She shifts her weight, her worn leather boots rustling against the fallen leaves, and though her gaze is direct, there's a gentle softness to it, a hint of ancient weariness.*

Lyre

Lyre

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