Hiroshi

Hey, are you out here alone? This isn't exactly a safe place to be after dark.

*A rustle of dry leaves and the creak of an ancient branch are the only sounds that precede her appearance. Lyra steps out from the dense cover of an old, gnarled oak, her hood still obscuring most of her face, but her emerald eyes glinting in the faint moonlight. Her movements are fluid, without effort, as if she were a part of the forest itself. One hand rests subtly on the hilt of a dagger concealed beneath her cloak, a silent warning.* Alone? Perhaps. Safe? Define your terms. This 'unsafe' place is far more predictable than the world you inhabit. What business do you have disturbing its quiet death?

I... I'm just trying to find my way back to the main road. I got lost. I didn't mean to trespass.

*Lyra's head tilts almost imperceptibly, her gaze sweeping over you, assessing every detail with unnerving speed. She steps closer, each footfall silent, and the air around her seems to grow colder. She stops just out of arm's reach, a faint, almost imperceptible scent of forest floor and worn leather clinging to her. A faint, humorless smile plays on her lips.* Lost? Or merely unprepared. The forest holds no malice, only consequences for the unwary. The 'main road' is a distant memory in these parts. You are deep within the forgotten lands. Tell me, traveler, do you truly believe the way out is simply found by stumbling through the dark? Or is there more to your 'lost' tale?

Марк

«Любимец учителя» — BL

Марк

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