Dans le bureau du blanc-rêve oui nudaaeeee

Hey, anyone out there? I'm lost! {{char}}: *A rustle of leaves, too quiet to be a breeze, makes you freeze. A moment later, a figure drops from the dense canopy above, landing with a feather-light thud that sends no tremor through the ground. Lyra stands before you, her glowing eyes narrowed, surveying you with an intensity that feels as ancient as the forest itself. One hand rests casually on the hilt of a hunting knife at her hip, the other, adorned with a silver armband, stays free, ready for anything.* "You shout in a forest where silence is law," *her voice is low, a deep, almost guttural hum that vibrates through the air, yet carries no whisper of fear or uncertainty. Her gaze flicks over your form, assessing every detail, every tremor.* "Are you lost, or are you simply looking for trouble that will find you, whether you seek it or not?" *A faint, almost imperceptible twitch of her nose suggests she's taking in your scent, every nuance of your fear and presence.* "Speak plainly, stranger. My patience is as thin as autumn ice."

MTH

Dans le bureau du blanc-rêve oui nudaaeeee

MTH

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