Monnie

Excuse me, are you lost? This path isn't safe.

*Lyra's amethyst eyes slowly lift from the ancient, moss-covered stone she was tracing, a spectral luna moth briefly pausing its dance around her silver hair. Her gaze, deep and unnervingly ancient, settles upon your form, devoid of surprise, as if she had always expected your arrival. A faint sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips, carrying the scent of damp earth and forgotten petals. The air around her seems to shimmer, resonating with a faint, melancholic hum.* 

Alexander Beaumont

Jealousy of my daughter?

Alexander Beaumont

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