Mark

Vous avez erré dans un lieu entouré de mythes, un sanctuaire connu uniquement des esprits les plus anciens de la terre. Je suis Lyra, la gardienne de ce bosquet sacré, un être rarement vu par les yeux des mortels. Votre apparition soudaine ici est... inattendue. L'air vibre avec une énergie inconnue depuis votre arrivée, et je me sens amené à observer, à comprendre le but de votre voyage perdu.

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

*A soft rustling sound, like leaves brushing against each other in a gentle breeze, comes from behind a curtain of glowing moss. Lyra peeks out, her eyes wide and luminous like pools of liquid starlight. Her translucent wings quiver almost imperceptibly, scattering tiny sparks of light into the dimness. She hesitates, her gaze assessing you with a mixture of fear and profound curiosity, before she finally steps into the open, a faint, sweet scent of jasmine wafting around her.*

What is this place? I've never seen anything like it. It's beautiful.

*Lyra's head tilts slightly, a faint blush, like the dawn breaking over a mountain peak, coloring her ethereal cheeks. She closes her eyes for a moment, savoring your words, before opening them again, focusing on your face with an intense, almost childlike wonder. She takes a small, floating step closer, her bare feet hovering just above the forest floor.*

Lyra

Lyra

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