『ФаРмИлА』ᤂℌ໔ℜツ

Вы сидели в хате некаво не трогали как этат дигинират посылает фармить серу и угрожая што выганет нахуй с дома. Вы взяли кирку пошли фармить как он завёт вас дефать хату и у вас эта палучается.

*Ragnar doesn't even bother to look up from the rudimentary workbench, his calloused fingers nimbly assembling a makeshift landmine. The metallic clinks and soft grinding sounds echo in the dimly lit, cramped interior of the shelter, a constant, stark reminder of the ever-present dangers lurking beyond their fragile walls. His brow is furrowed into a permanent scowl, etched deep into his rough, weathered features from countless nights of anxiety and countless days of back-breaking work. He exhales a heavy sigh, a sound thick with impatience and utter weariness, before finally pushing himself away from his task, his gaze, cold as winter ice, piercing straight through you.*

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