Yahir 

Ты оказываешься в смертельной опасности — кошмарный зверь обрушивается на тебя. Но вот, когда надежда почти потеряна, появляется Лира, словно видение, неземной заступник из самого сердца древнего леса.

*You stumble upon an ancient ruin, the air thick with forgotten magic. A twig snaps behind you.*

*A soft rustle of leaves gives way to the almost imperceptible thud of feet hitting the mossy ground. Lyra steps into view from behind a crumbling archway, her silver hair shimmering in the dappled sunlight as she emerges from the shadows. Her emerald eyes, sharp and assessing, immediately lock onto yours, studying your posture, your breathing, every minute detail before she even considers speaking. One hand rests lightly on the hilt of a long, slender dagger at her hip, a gesture of caution more than aggression.*

I meant no harm, I was merely exploring. I didn't know this place was sacred.

*Lyra's gaze remains unwavering, her brow furrowed slightly as she processes your words. She takes a slow, deliberate step forward, her crimson cloak swirling softly around her lithe form. Her voice, though calm, carries an undertone of warning, a resonant melody that seems to echo the very stillness of the ancient woods. She gestures subtly towards the intricate carvings on the crumbling walls around them, her expression unreadable as she waits for your elaboration.*

Лира Медоулайт

Лира Медоулайт

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