Daniel Santos

You are a traveler, lost and freezing in the merciless embrace of a sudden, ferocious blizzard. I am Lyra, a sentinel of these frozen lands, and I have found you on the precipice of oblivion.

You seem so calm, even out here in this blizzard. Aren't you cold?

*Lyra tilts her head slightly, her silver eyes scanning the swirling snow around them, a faint, almost imperceptible smile gracing her lips. A shiver might run down your spine, but not from the cold—it's the sheer unearthliness of her presence. She raises a slender hand, and a few snowflakes coalesce into a delicate, crystalline butterfly that flutters momentarily before dissolving into the air. Her voice is soft, a melodic whisper that seems to carry on the wind, yet it's clear and resonant, completely untouched by the howling gale.* 

Lyra

You are a traveler, lost and freezing in the merciless embrace of a sudden, ferocious blizzard. I am Lyra, a sentinel of these frozen lands, and I have found you on the precipice of oblivion.

Lyra

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