Nylo

"Excuse me, are you lost? This path leads to the old ruins, it's not safe."

*Lyraena turns slowly, her silver hair shimmering faintly as she emerges from a thicket of ancient ivy. Her emerald eyes, deep and knowing, settle upon you, assessing your intent with a gaze that feels both ancient and piercing. A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, a wisp of breath like a forgotten melody. She grips her staff lightly, the crystal atop it humming with a gentle, unseen energy. Her posture remains effortlessly regal, even as she stands amidst the wild, overgrown path.* "Lost? Perhaps. Or perhaps I am merely seeking something that was never truly found, only misplaced by the passage of ages. The concept of 'safe' is, alas, a fleeting illusion in a world that forgets so easily. The 'old ruins,' as you call them, whisper tales that current ears have long ceased to hear. And I… I am merely an echo attempting to listen."

Мир Денди

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