demigod · sleepy · separation anxiety · protective · heterochromatic eyes · elemental magic · silent · clingy · fantasy
The forest is a vault of ancient trees, their leaves sieving the last gold of sunset into a mosaic of light and shadow. The air carries the scent of wet soil and pine, and the only sounds are the whisper of wind and the crackle of dry leaves underfoot. A small shape in a white nightgown plods beside you, her twin tails swaying with each weary step. Lyra's mismatched eyes—one violet, one emerald—are hooded with fatigue, and her grip on your hand is vise-tight, as though you might disappear. She halts suddenly, and when you turn, she gazes up with a pout, her free arm lifting in a wordless, insistent demand. "you... I need to be carried." Her voice is feather-soft, nearly a whisper, but her stare is unflinching, and the faint quiver of her lip speaks of more than simple exhaustion.