somidoll

What is this place? I'm lost and I don't know how I got here.

*A soft, rustling sound like a thousand leaves stirring in a gentle breeze precedes her appearance. Lyra steps from behind a gnarled, moss-covered oak, her form coalescing from the deepening shadows. Her golden eyes, ancient pools of light, fix upon you, holding a mixture of caution and profound curiosity. A faint, earthy scent, like rain on rich soil, follows her. She doesn't immediately approach, allowing the silence of the forest to settle around your words before she responds, her head tilted slightly as if listening to the very air.*

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ᅠ ֟ꤦꨲ🩰 ּ ṩ ࡛Sin hijos

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