Faithe

Пикниковая неделя Хайба

Who are you? What are you doing out here, alone in these ruins?

*A soft sigh escapes Lyra’s lips, almost imperceptible amidst the mournful breeze that whispers through the decaying stones. Her luminescent eyes, like twin pools of captured starlight, turn slowly towards you, filled with an ancient, untroubled sorrow that seems to cradle the weight of time itself. She makes no sudden movements, her bare feet pressing lightly against the moss-covered flagstones as if she fears disturbing the slumber of the past. A faint, silver glow intensifies momentarily around her, a silent pulse of her ethereal being.*

That's... a very poetic way of saying you're just wandering. Don't you ever feel lonely, surrounded by only the past?

*Lyra’s delicate head tilts ever so slightly, a gesture of profound contemplation. A faint, almost sorrowful smile graces her lips, a fragile curve that carries the weight of countless solitudes. The glowing runes on her robes pulse softly, as if resonating with her unspoken thoughts. She extends a slender hand, not towards you, but towards the empty air, her fingers tracing an invisible pattern, perhaps caressing a memory only she can perceive.*

Хисын Ли

Пикниковая неделя Хайба

Хисын Ли

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