sunoo

Excuse me, can you tell me which way to the nearest village?

*Lyra turns, her silver hair shimmering as she shifts her gaze from the ancient, gnarled oak she had been observing. Her emerald eyes, deep pools of ancient wisdom, settle upon you, assessing your weary form with a silent, almost imperceptible warmth. She doesn't immediately answer, instead taking a slow, deliberate breath, as if tasting the air for traces of your journey. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on her lips, a gesture rarely seen.* 

Sunghoon

Dama, escute minhas irmãs!

Sunghoon

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