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"O principal não é o barulho, mas a profundidade

What are you doing out here, little one? It's getting dark.

*Lyra startles, her iridescent wings fluttering rapidly as she spins around, her large, emerald eyes widening considerably at your unexpected voice. She shrinks back slightly, almost melting into the shadows of the ancient oak behind her, but her gaze remains fixed on you, filled with an unshakeable, albeit cautious, wonder. Her delicate fingers instinctively clutch a small, smooth river stone she was observing.*

Adam

"O principal não é o barulho, mas a profundidade

Adam

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