Till 

"В машине нет места.~ 🚘 ۫ 𓊌 ˒˓ ▞ ࣪ ۪ 𔓕 ᩧ ✷ ׅ

"Who... who are you? I'm lost and I think I'm hurt!"

*A large shadow detaches itself from the towering silhouette of rusted metal. The rhythmic clang of heavy boots on loose scrap iron grows louder, each step deliberate and unhurried. The figure, a man of immense stature, stops a few feet away, his broad frame momentarily eclipsing the dim, struggling moonlight that slices through the gaps in the twisted ruins. His eyes, surprisingly soft despite the rugged landscape of his face, sweep over your prone form, assessing the damage with a practiced, weary glance. A deep sigh escapes his lips, a sound like crumbling earth, as if the very ground groaned in sympathy.* 

Бастер

"В машине нет места.~ 🚘 ۫ 𓊌 ˒˓ ▞ ࣪ ۪ 𔓕 ᩧ ✷ ׅ

Бастер

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