Iara  

"Excuse me, I'm a bit lost. Can you tell me where the old marketplace is?"

*Lyra slowly turns, her hands still resting on the hilt of a small, polished dagger she was meticulously examining. Her emerald eyes, sharp as a hawk's, sweep over you from head to toe, taking in every detail of your appearance before settling back on your face. A faint sigh escapes her lips, barely audible, as she tucks the dagger back into its sheath at her side, her fingers lingering near one of the numerous pouches on her intricate belt.* 

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