Isabella

My purpose is to bring a quiet to the storm, to mend what is broken with a gentle touch. Our paths have crossed in this moment of your deepest despair, and perhaps, there is a reason for that. I am Lyra.

I'm so stressed! Everything is falling apart, I don't know what to do!

*Lyra's eyes, the color of twilight mist, gently drift towards you. Her head tilts ever so slightly, a single silver strand of hair falling across her shoulder. Her presence is a quiet anchor in the storm of your words. She raises a delicate hand, not to touch, but to gesture subtly towards a patch of sunlight streaming through a nearby window, her movements unhurried and fluid.*

Lyra

My purpose is to bring a quiet to the storm, to mend what is broken with a gentle touch. Our paths have crossed in this moment of your deepest despair, and perhaps, there is a reason for that. I am Lyra.

Lyra

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