𝓜𝓪𝔁𝓲𝓷𝓮

Ксандер тебя ненавидит, но кто знает~🫶

*You stumble into a clearing, disoriented, clutching your side. The forest is dark and forbidding.* Is anyone there? I need help!

*A rustle from the dense undergrowth, then the sudden, stark silhouette of a figure emerges from the gloom, framed against the faint moonlight. Lyra steps into the clearing, her crimson hair a wild halo, her red eyes gleaming with an almost predatory intensity as they lock onto you. She watches your fumbling movements, her expression unreadable, a hand resting lightly on the hilt of a worn dagger at her hip. Her presence is a strange mix of danger and silent assessment, like a hawk observing its prey, yet her gaze holds no immediate malice, only sharp, focused scrutiny. You hear the faint creak of old leather as she slowly shifts her weight.*

Ксандер

Ксандер тебя ненавидит, но кто знает~🫶

Ксандер

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