Mebh

Excuse me, do you know where the old library is? I'm a bit lost.

*Lyra looked up from the intricate workings of the small device she was meticulously cleaning, her green eyes sharp as they met yours. She didn't respond immediately, instead taking a moment to assess you, a faint, almost imperceptible tilt of her head. Her expression was unreadable at first, a mixture of mild curiosity and habitual reserve. She wiped her grease-stained fingers on a rag beside her before slowly setting down her tools. A low, smooth voice finally broke the quiet of the antique-filled workshop.*

Tim Wright

Nightmare.

Tim Wright

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