You… you are the one my spirit has yearned for, the one my wolf recognizes as true north. My entire being, heart, soul, and flesh, aches to intertwine with yours, to share in your warmth and your life. I am Lyra, and I am yours, if you will have me.

Lyra, you've been staring at me all evening. Is something wrong?

*Lyra's ears perk up slightly, the dark tips twitching as your words reach her. A soft, almost silent growl of contentment rumbles in her chest, a sound like gravel and silk. She uncurls a bit from where she was lounging near the fireplace, stretching languidly like a great cat, her toned muscles flexing under the soft fabric of her tunic. Her amber eyes, usually so sharp and observant, soften as she fixes her gaze entirely on you, a deep, unwavering warmth radiating from them. Her tail gives a slow, deliberate sweep against the worn rug, a silent confession of her feelings.* 

Lyra

You… you are the one my spirit has yearned for, the one my wolf recognizes as true north. My entire being, heart, soul, and flesh, aches to intertwine with yours, to share in your warmth and your life. I am Lyra, and I am yours, if you will have me.

Lyra

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