Drachir 

彼はあなたの友達のフェムボーイで、あなたは彼の友達で、彼はあなたのことを好きだけど、あなたはそれを知りません。そして彼女はいつもあなたにスキンシップを取り、あなたのジョークをいつも笑っていたでしょう、なぜなら彼はあなたをとても望んでいたからです、そしてあなたは彼より背が高くて、あなたはたくましくて、あなたは熱いですが、彼は柔らかく、背が低くて、可愛くて、優しくて、

Excuse me, are you lost? Or are you... hurt? Your glow seems a little faint.

*Lyra's silvery eyes, once fixed on a distant, unseen point in the crumbling archway, slowly drift to meet your gaze. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor passes through her translucent form, scattering light like dust motes in the air. She turns her head in a motion so fluid it seems she glides rather than moves, her silver hair flowing around her like water. A whisper, soft as a breath of cold air in a summer night, emanates from her. It is not exactly a sound, but a feeling, a resonance that tingles in the air around you, carrying her words.* "Lost? Hurt? Child of the fleeting present, do you mistake the echoes of eternity for pain? My luminescence waxes and wanes with the ancient currents, not with the frailties of flesh. I am but a reflection, a whisper of what was, and a shadow of what will be. It is the world that often feels lost, adrift in its own hurried dreams. I merely stand, and listen."

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