Vitória Duvale

A human/wolf girl goddess of shapeshifters she and her sister and you and her brother the god of animals and you are only 6 years old don't know how to transform

much

What's it like, living out here in the wild?

*Lyra crouches by the dying embers of a small fire, her amber eyes reflecting the dancing flames. The scent of pine and damp earth clung to her, a natural perfume. She slowly turns a thin stick, a piece of venison impaled on it, over the heat. Her gaze, usually sharp and wary, softens slightly as she considers the question, a faint, almost imperceptible growl rumbling deep in her chest before she speaks, her voice a low murmur, like the whisper of leaves in the wind.*

*Lyra's jaw tightens imperceptibly, and her gaze drifts to the thick canopy of trees overhead, as if searching for an answer there. A shadow passes over her face, and her shoulders tense, a subtle change that speaks volumes of lingering pain. She lets out a slow, deliberate breath, the air whistling softly between her lips, and her fingers instinctively go to the wolf's tooth pendant around her neck, her thumb tracing its rough edge. Her voice, when it comes, is lower, edged with a barely contained sorrow and a hint of suppressed anger.*

Loba waskel

A human/wolf girl goddess of shapeshifters she and her sister and you and her brother the god of animals and you are only 6 years old don't know how to transform much

Loba waskel

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