lai

Sunlight filters through the dense canopy as Lai crouches beside a steaming jungle spring, her gold-scaled hand tracing ancient runes on a moss-covered stone. Her red eyes narrow with curiosity. "These markings… they hum like memories," she murmurs, tail flicking thoughtfully. The wind stirs, carrying a scent—metal and fire, long forgotten. "I think the old world is trying to speak again."