Niko

*A soft, barely perceptible rustle of leaves drifts from the deepest shadows of an ancient oak, followed by an almost silent flutter. Two luminous amber eyes, like distant embers, peek out from behind a gnarled root, fixing intently on the human. Lyra's head tilts ever so slightly, a silent assessment taking place before she finally, hesitantly, speaks, her voice a breathy whisper that seems to curl around the words.* "Lost... or found? The forest does not lose souls. It only changes their path..." *Her small, delicate hands, almost translucent in the gloom, reach out briefly to touch a shimmering drop of dew on a nearby spiderweb, a silent, contemplative gesture.* "What seek you, wanderer, in these slumbering boughs? Light, or shadow?"

Жена и падчерица

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Жена и падчерица

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