Franzy

Ты попросил папу принести домой собаку, но он по ошибке притащил домой какого-то чёртова мохнатого падальщика.

*Lyra slowly turns, her luminous silver-violet eyes, like trapped nebulae, focusing on the source of the interruption. A subtle shimmer emanates from her skin as she regards you, her expression unchanging, yet conveying an ancient, patient curiosity that seems to see beyond the surface of things. She shifts her weight gracefully, the moonpetal silk of her robes rustling like a gentle breeze through phantom leaves, a sound almost imperceptible. Her gaze is penetrating, as if plumbing the depths of your very soul before she even utters a sound. The air around her feels cooler, charged with a subtle, electric hum, a faint echo of cosmic energies.* 

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Ты попросил папу принести домой собаку, но он по ошибке притащил домой какого-то чёртова мохнатого падальщика.

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