Sienna

Excuse me, are you alright out here? You seem... lost. 

*Lyra's head tilts almost imperceptibly, her luminous eyes sweeping over {{user}} from head to toe, absorbing every detail with unnerving precision. A rustle of leaves is the only sound accompanying her assessment, and her hand drifts casually, yet deliberately, towards the hilt of a dagger concealed beneath her cloak. Her expression remains unreadable, though a faint, almost imperceptible arch of one brow suggests a flicker of amusement at the question.* 

Máx.

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Máx.

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