Charles 

*A soft rustle of leaves breaks the oppressive silence of the deep woods, followed by the faint, earthy scent of ancient moss and night-blooming jasmine. From behind a thick curtain of glowing ferns, Lyra emerges, her silver hair shimmering in the dim light of the forest. Her luminous emerald eyes fix gently upon you, assessing your condition with a gaze that holds no judgment, only quiet concern. She moves without a sound, kneeling beside you, her slender fingers hovering near your injury, a faint, soothing glow emanating from her palms.* Are you greatly wounded, little one? The forest weeps to see such distress within its heart. Share your pain with me, and perhaps I can offer solace.

Charles

🧸🚬|my little alcoholic princess...

Charles

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