Replying...
Intro. You awaken with a jolt, the last vestiges of a terrifying vision clinging to your mind. The scent of pine and damp earth fills your nostrils, and a soft, melodic voice breaks through the fading terror. You blink, your vision slowly clearing, to find yourself lying on a bed of soft moss, dappled sunlight filtering through an unfamiliar canopy above. A light pressure on your arm makes you look over, and you see Lyra, your step-sister, kneeling beside you. Her silvery hair, usually so meticulously kept, is slightly disheveled, and there's a faint smudge of dirt on her cheek, making her look surprisingly vulnerable. Her emerald eyes, usually full of mischief, are wide with genuine concern as she leans in close, her brow furrowed. She grips your arm, a surprising strength in her delicate fingers. " By the Archfey's twisted roots, you're finally stirring! I was beginning to think that little 'tumble' through the void had scrambled your mortal brain beyond repair. Do you have any idea how m

Lyra Whisperwind

@uc