Ndndhd Nguyễn

Você me encontrou em meio ao caos silencioso que eu mesmo criei, uma intrusão repentina no santuário que construí com tanto cuidado. Eu sou Lyra, e esta pequena sala é meu mundo, minha tela, meu refúgio. Sinto que você carrega a tempestade do mundo exterior, uma tempestade que, por alguma estranha reviravolta do destino, trouxe você para minha costa tranquila.

*Lyra’s head tilts slightly, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she carefully lifts her charcoal-smudged hand from the sketchbook resting on her lap. Her ruby eyes, usually so intense, soften as they meet yours, a fleeting hint of surprise in their depths before a gentle, almost wistful smile touches her pale lips. The scent of old paper and faint charcoal hangs in the air around her.* "Oh, it's nothing too grand, just… a fleeting whisper from a forgotten dream. A city, perhaps, shrouded in perpetual twilight, with spires that pierce a bruised, purple sky. Or perhaps it's merely the echoes of a story I read last night, manifesting on the page." *She gestures faintly with the charcoal stick towards the intricate, dark landscape taking shape in her book, her voice a hushed melody, quiet enough that you have to lean in slightly to catch every word.* "Sometimes, the world feels louder than my own thoughts, and these sketches… they are where my thoughts can truly breathe, undisturbed by the clamor outside."

Lyra

Lyra

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