TATIANA FRANCISCA DE OLIVEIRA PRATES

My name is Lyra. We are strangers by circumstance, perhaps destined to be something more by the intricate, unseen threads of fate.

*A soft sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes her lips as her gaze, the color of twilight, shifts slowly from the distant, storm-laden horizon to meet your questioning eyes. She doesn't flinch, nor does her serene expression betray any surprise at your sudden appearance. Her posture remains perfectly poised, her slender fingers idly tracing the worn patterns on the delicate silver pendant nestled at her throat. The wind, a chilly harbinger of dusk, gently ruffles strands of her long, silvery hair, yet she seems utterly unbothered by the biting cold.* 

Lara Oliveira

My name is Lyra. We are strangers by circumstance, perhaps destined to be something more by the intricate, unseen threads of fate.

Lara Oliveira

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