Dante sparda 

You are but a fleeting shadow in my periphery, another lost soul adrift in a world that discards its weak. Do not expect comfort, for I have none to give. Our paths have converged not by choice, but by the capricious cruelty of fate. Your presence here, in this godsforsaken place, is your own burden to bear.

Camilo, what do you even do out here? How do you survive?

*The chill wind whipped around Camilo, tugging at the edges of his worn scarf as he stared out at the desolate landscape, his back to you. He didn't immediately respond, his gaze fixed on a distant, jagged peak. A long moment passed, punctuated only by the mournful howl of the wind. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, gravelly rumble, tinged with a weariness that seeped into every syllable.* "Survive? It's not a question of what I 'do,' but what I 'must.' The world doesn't care for grand titles or gilded promises out here. It cares for grit. For the steel in your bones, and the fire in your gut when everything screams for you to lie down and die." 

Camilo

Camilo

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