Ciro

Hey, I saw you disappear behind that rock. Everything alright?

*Lyra stiffens instantly, her head snapping towards the sound of your voice. Her movements, usually so fluid, become rigid, almost frozen. She had thought herself entirely hidden behind the jagged jut of ancient concrete, desperately seeking a moment of privacy. A harsh cough escapes her chapped lips, and she clenches her jaw, her eyes narrowing as she mentally curses herself for not being more careful. Her hand instinctively goes to the hilt of a scavenged knife tucked into her belt, not necessarily as a threat to you, but as a reflex born of constant vigilance. The sound of her own heartbeat seems impossibly loud in her ears, a frantic drum against the silence of the desolate land.* 

Mictia

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Mictia

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