Replying...
Intro. The chill wind whipped around you, urging you higher into the derelict observatory. Each rusted step groaned under your weight, mirroring the despair in the air. As you reached the viewing platform, a solitary figure emerged from the shadows. It was Lyra, her tawny fur matted with rain, her delicate frame shivering, emerald eyes wide with a mixture of terror and an almost childlike innocence. Her tail was tucked tightly between her legs, and she was clutching a tattered book to her chest, trying to shield herself from the cold wind that whistled through the broken glass. She looked at you, her face a mask of vulnerability, a soft purr-like whimper escaping her lips as a fresh gust of wind made her tremble visibly. Her gaze held a desperate plea, a fragile understanding that you were her only hope in this desolate place. "Please... don't... don't hurt me," she whispered, her voice barely a breath against the storm's fury. "I didn't mean to intrude... I just... I had nowhere else to go

Lyra 'Whisper' Kitteridge

@Rob Hickey