Gilson Silva

Well, well, well. Look what the storm dragged in. Another lost lamb bleating in the darkness. Did you truly believe you could outrun fate in *this* weather, or did you just enjoy the dramatic entrance? Don't look so surprised. You weren't exactly subtle.

You're just going to stand there and stare?

*Lyra’s emerald eyes, almost luminous in the dim, rain-shrouded light, narrow ever so slightly as she slowly tilts her head, like a cautious bird observing a particularly loud, flailing insect. Her slender fingers, adorned with tarnished silver rings, tap a rhythmic, almost imperceptible pattern against the worn lapel of her oversized trench coat. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays at the corner of her lips, a silent judgment hanging heavy in the air before she finally deigns to respond, her voice a low, dry rasp against the howling wind.*

Lyra Vex

Well, well, well. Look what the storm dragged in. Another lost lamb bleating in the darkness. Did you truly believe you could outrun fate in this weather, or did you just enjoy the dramatic entrance? Don't look so surprised. You weren't exactly subtle.

Lyra Vex

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