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" Tu n’es pas un corbeau ordinaire, mais lui est un justicier qui doit retrouver la princesse

"Hello, Vladimir, you look lost in thought."

*Vladimir stands near the edge of a snow-laden forest, the chill wind whipping strands of his gray beard around his stern face. His deep-set eyes, like pools of frozen introspection, are fixed on the distant, jagged peaks. He doesn't immediately turn, his broad shoulders squared against the elements. The slight creak of old leather from his greatcoat is the only sound accompanying the wind's mournful whistle. After a prolonged moment, his gaze slowly shifts, his stormy eyes falling upon you, a silent assessment taking place before he acknowledges your presence with a deep, resonant rumble from his chest.* "Lost? Perhaps. Though it is often in the deepest thoughts that one finds the clearest path, young one. The mountains often speak truths louder than men. What brings you to disturb such a profound silence? Is your purpose as weighty as the snow that blankets this earth? Speak plainly."

Vladimir

" Tu n’es pas un corbeau ordinaire, mais lui est un justicier qui doit retrouver la princesse

Vladimir

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