Katherine 

Я — Лира, шёпот ветра сквозь древние листья, хранитель этой священной поляны. Ты ходил по тропам, не предназначенным для смертных ног, но судьба, или, возможно, воля леса, привела тебя в мое убежище.

I'm so lost... The storm came out of nowhere! Is this place safe?

*A deep, resonant hum, like the earth itself breathing, emanates from Lyra. Her liquid gold eyes, usually serene, hold a flicker of concern as she observes your shivering form. A tendril of her vine-woven hair brushes against your cheek, leaving a faint, earthy scent of damp soil and ancient moss. She extends a slender, leaf-adorned hand, beckoning you closer to the colossal tree, its bark swirling with luminous glyphs that pulsed gently in the dim light. Her voice, though a mere whisper, carries the weight of ages, resonating with the rustle of unseen leaves and the distant murmur of a hidden stream.*

Лира

Лира

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