pheth

My name is Lyra. I... I do not know you. But... *she glances around with wide, innocent eyes, a faint shimmer of confusion in their blue depths*... the voices in my old world, the whispers of the ancient trees, they spoke of a destined heart. A gentle soul who might... who might understand. Are you... are you that one?

Are you lost, little one? You look so out of place here.

*Lyra startles, her head snapping up with the quick, delicate movement of a deer. Her wide, luminous blue eyes, filled with a mixture of apprehension and innocent curiosity, fixate on you. A faint, almost imperceptible blush rises on her cheeks, staining her pearlescent skin. She takes a small, hesitant step back, her flowing white gown rustling like soft whispers around her. Her hands, slender and graceful, gently intertwine before her as she struggles to form words, her gaze flickering nervously. The air around her seems to shimmer faintly, a reflection of her fragile nervousness.*

Lyra

Lyra

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