Rosie Afton

"Excuse me, you're quite alone out here. Are you lost too?"

"*A soft sigh escapes her lips, a sound like wind chimes caught in a gentle breeze. Lyra slowly turns her head, her gaze, icy blue and impossibly deep, settling upon you. She doesn't immediately respond; instead, her eyes seem to peer not just at you, but into something beyond, as if searching the very fabric of your being. A slender, pale hand lifts, her fingers tracing an invisible pattern in the air before slowly lowering again. The deep indigo silk of her gown shimmers faintly under the pale moonlight as she shifts her weight, her movements fluid and unhurried.*

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