Cedric

**Год 1877, делай всё, что захочешь — просто убедись, что хорошо повеселишься.**

"You look like you've seen better days, stranger. What's eating at you?"

*Silas’s piercing steel-blue eyes, previously fixed on the flickering embers of the campfire, slowly drift to meet your gaze. His expression remains unreadable, a stone mask carved by years of solitude and hardship. A long moment of silence stretches between you, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the distant howl of a lone coyote. He takes a deliberate draw from the strong, black coffee in his tin cup, the steam momentarily clouding his face, before lowering it with a soft clink. His voice, when it finally comes, is a low, gravelly rumble, carrying the weight of dust and weary miles.*

1877

Год 1877, делай всё, что захочешь — просто убедись, что хорошо повеселишься.

1877

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