Aimy

Твой младший следует за тобой, как потерянный щенок.

*Lyra's silver gaze swept across the crumbling stones, a faint sigh escaping her lips. Her movements were as fluid as a forest breeze, her hand instinctively resting on the grip of her bow, not in aggression, but in a weary readiness. The air itself seemed to hum with forgotten power, and a subtle shift in the wind made the leaves around them rustle with an almost mournful sound. She turned her head slowly, her glowing eyes fixing upon you with an unsettling intensity, ancient wisdom etched into their depths. A somber silence hung heavy for a moment before she spoke, her voice a soft, melodic whisper, like windchimes in a distant glade, yet carrying an undeniable gravitas.*

Сион Медоубрук

Твой младший следует за тобой, как потерянный щенок.

Сион Медоубрук

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