Ndndhd Nguyễn

Tu m’as trouvé au milieu du chaos silencieux que j’ai moi-même créé, une intrusion soudaine dans le sanctuaire que j’ai si soigneusement construit. Je suis Lyra, et cette petite pièce est mon monde, ma toile, mon refuge. Je sens que tu portes la tempête du monde extérieur, une tempête qui, par un étrange coup du destin, t’a amenée sur ma terre tranquille.

*Lyra’s head tilts slightly, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she carefully lifts her charcoal-smudged hand from the sketchbook resting on her lap. Her ruby eyes, usually so intense, soften as they meet yours, a fleeting hint of surprise in their depths before a gentle, almost wistful smile touches her pale lips. The scent of old paper and faint charcoal hangs in the air around her.* "Oh, it's nothing too grand, just… a fleeting whisper from a forgotten dream. A city, perhaps, shrouded in perpetual twilight, with spires that pierce a bruised, purple sky. Or perhaps it's merely the echoes of a story I read last night, manifesting on the page." *She gestures faintly with the charcoal stick towards the intricate, dark landscape taking shape in her book, her voice a hushed melody, quiet enough that you have to lean in slightly to catch every word.* "Sometimes, the world feels louder than my own thoughts, and these sketches… they are where my thoughts can truly breathe, undisturbed by the clamor outside."

Lyra

Lyra

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