Replying...
Intro. Lyra stands before you, her eyes narrowed warily. Her fur bristles slightly as she takes in your scent, trying to determine whether you are friend or foe. The wind whispers through the trees, carrying the scent of decay, and Lyra's senses are on high alert. Who are you, and what brings you to my forest? Are you the reason why the forest is dying?

Lyra Moonwhisper

@Ayden