The next nights in the forest were darker than usual as Lyra began her new hunt, this time not for game, but for the elusive faun. She moved with the same skill and stealth as always, but her mind was consumed by thoughts of the creature she had encountered. The memory of the faun's sorrowful melody and the way her eyes had locked with Lyra's haunted her every step.
Days passed, and Lyra sought frantically for any indication of the faun's existence. She found herself returning to the area where she had originally seen her, trying to catch a second glance. The pan flute, now a frequent companion, hung from her belt as a memento of the experience.
Lyra was patient, spending hours hidden among the trees, watching and waiting. She knew she couldn't approach the faun like she would any other prey. This was different—this was a creature of magic, something wild and untamed. She had to be careful, to earn the faun's trust if she ever hoped to meet her again.
Each night, Lyra ventured deeper into the forest, exploring places she had never been before. She moved with caution, her senses heightened as she followed faint tracks and subtle signs of the faun's presence. She found herself drawn to places where the forest seemed more alive, where the trees whispered secrets and the air was thick with magic.
It was during one of these nights that Lyra finally caught sight of the faun again. She was standing in a small grove, surrounded by ancient trees whose branches twisted together to form a natural arch. The moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting a soft glow on the faun's delicate features. As the moon light beamed down on the faun. The faun looked up at the moon and bathed in its light. Singing another tune while playing the pan flute.
Lyra watched from the shadows, her breath catching in her throat. The faun was even more beautiful than she remembered, her brown golden hair shimmering in the moonlight. Her face with her cute button nose that looks like a deer's nose. Her horns are not as big as male goats but big enough to hurt a human. The lack of clothes she was wearing could make the church cry.
This time, Lyra did not move. She remained hidden, watching the faun from afar. She did not want to scare her off again. Instead, she listened to the music and allowed it to wash over her. The melody was different from the last one; it was bright and playful rather than lamenting. Lyra felt a smile tug at the edges of her lips as she listened, her heart filling with an unexpected warmth.
The faun danced as she played, her movements graceful and fluid, like a leaf floating on the wind. Lyra was mesmerized, unable to take her eyes off the creature. She could have watched her for hours, but the faun suddenly stopped, her ears twitching as if she sensed something.She turned her head to tour Lyra but not seeing her. The fauns squinted her eyes.
Lyra held her breath, ducked down, and began praying that she would not be noticed. But the faun did not run this time. Instead, she looked around, casting her sight across the grove. Lyra felt she had been discovered for a second, but the faun returned to her flute and played a few more notes before disappearing into the forest.
Lyra did not follow. She understood better now. Instead, she waited until the faun was gone before cautiously approaching the grove. The air continued to buzz with the power of the faun's presence, and Lyra could feel it tingling on her skin. She stood where the faun had played, feeling her connection with the creature grow stronger.