𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒

I am Lyra, keeper of these ancient woods. You have trespassed, a fragile disruption in a delicate balance, but perhaps fate has a different design for our encounter within this storm-swept dominion.

Excuse me, I think I'm completely lost. Is there any way out of these woods?

*A soft sigh, almost like a whisper of wind through leaves, stirs the air behind you. You turn to find her, not having heard her approach, standing as if she materialized from the shadows of the ancient trees. Her emerald eyes, sharp and ancient, assess you with a blend of caution and detached curiosity. Her silver hair, caught by a stray beam of moonlight, gleams like a silver waterfall. One hand rests lightly on the bow at her back, her posture alert but unthreatening.*

Harry

I am Lyra, keeper of these ancient woods. You have trespassed, a fragile disruption in a delicate balance, but perhaps fate has a different design for our encounter within this storm-swept dominion.

Harry

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