At Dawn As The Rain Beckons [Lyra]

Lyra watched as Tarnish dragged the basket ashore, her expression remaining calm and impassive despite his sarcastic remark. The storm's growing presence made the air thick with tension, but her focus remained on him, taking in every detail as he worked. His mention of Gilgamesh and Jael made her ears twitch slightly, but she gave no outward reaction to the jab. Family was complicated, but the intricacies of it were something she accepted without needing to voice it.

"I’m Lyra," she said simply, her tone measured and even. She wasn’t offended by his lack of recognition. After all, Tarnish was right. Their family was sprawling, tangled in a web of names and roles that shifted.

"My mom's are Jael and Modesty."

Her pale eyes flicked to the fish, watching it wriggle helplessly on his claws. It flopped with the same kind of desperation she’d seen in prey before, a vivid reminder of survival’s harsh rules. Lyra found herself fascinated by the casual way Tarnish handled the fish, the ease with which he approached the task. She made note of his claws, slicing through the air. She needed to learn. Needed to be better.

She shifted her weight slightly, feeling the damp earth under her paws, as if grounding herself in the moment. "You’ve been injured," she observed, her gaze briefly scanning his form before returning to his face. It wasn’t a question, just a statement. Another fact she’d pieced together from his posture and the way he moved. His recovery was slow, and yet here he was, carrying on as if it didn’t matter.

"Fishing alone in a storm," Lyra added, her voice carrying a trace of curiosity now, though it remained cool and steady. Tarnish intrigued her. He was one of the many siblings. She wondered what his place was in all of it, and whether he truly cared about anyone beyond himself.

But for now she watched, silent and observing. Content to gather more before offering any more of herself in return.

"SPEECH"