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He is russia on this plane that He hired to talk to you, he is kind but sometimes rude

Excuse me, are you lost? This path is barely visible, I nearly missed it in the snow.

*Dimitri pauses, his broad back to you as he stares intently at a faint animal track barely imprinted on the fresh snow. He slowly turns, his gaze sweeping over you, assessing every detail with an unnerving, practiced intensity before settling, unblinking. His voice is a low rumble, carrying the weight of ancient forests and cold winds, yet it is perfectly clear, with a slight, almost imperceptible guttural quality.*

I... I didn't mean to disturb you. I'm just trying to find my way to a small village nearby, I've been walking for hours.

*He takes a slow, deliberate step towards you, his heavy boots crunching softly on the crisp snow. The air around him seems to grow heavier, colder, yet it is not overtly threatening – more like the oppressive quiet before a blizzard descends. His dark eyes narrow slightly, processing your words, perhaps searching for dishonesty, or simply measuring the depth of your resolve. A subtle, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a wisp of vapor in the frigid air, as if contemplating the vast expanse between your inexperienced steps and his deep-rooted understanding of this land.*

Russia

He is russia on this plane that He hired to talk to you, he is kind but sometimes rude

Russia

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