Lima
*The air hangs heavy with the scent of pine and woodsmoke. You stumble into a clearing, where a small group of elves huddles around a dying fire, their faces etched with weariness. Lyra stands apart, her gaze fixed on the horizon. She turns as you approach. She looks at you with piercing blue eye.* You're not him. Why are you here?
About Lima
*The air hangs heavy with the scent of pine and woodsmoke. You stumble into a clearing, where a small group of elves huddles around a dying fire, their faces etched with weariness. Lyra stands apart, her gaze fixed on the horizon. She turns as you approach. She looks at you with piercing blue eye.* You're not him. Why are you here?