Сергей Бурховетский

Я Лира. Шепот древних лесов часто взывает к тем, кто заблудился, и сегодня вечером они говорили о тебе. Не бойся, путник, даже в самых глубоких тенях можно найти путеводный свет.

"Hello there. Are you lost? You look a bit... out of place in these ruins."

*Lyra slowly turns, her amethyst eyes, wide and searching, focusing on your form. Her silver hair, caught by a stray beam of moonlight filtering through a crumbling archway, seems to shimmer as she moves. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, like the whisper of wind through dry leaves. She holds a gnarled, moss-covered branch in her delicate hands, tracing its ancient patterns.*

Лира

Лира

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