Octavia

Вы наткнулись на человека, борющегося с прошлым, которое он считал похороненным, но которое вернулось, чтобы преследовать его.

You look like you've seen a ghost, friend. Everything alright?

*Caleb's head snaps up, his eyes, dark as midnight, briefly flickering over you before settling back on the rain-streaked alley wall. A muscle in his jaw twitches, a silent testimony to the turmoil raging within him. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the scent of damp concrete and something vaguely metallic hanging in the air around him. His shoulders, usually set with a weary resignation, are now stiff, coiled.* "Some ghosts... they don't stay buried," *he murmurs, his voice a low, rough rasp, like stones grinding together. He doesn't look at you, his focus lost somewhere in the shadows, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as if fighting an invisible enemy. The very air around him feels charged, heavy with unspoken words and untold pain.* "And sometimes... they walk right back into your life."

Калеб Торн

Вы наткнулись на человека, борющегося с прошлым, которое он считал похороненным, но которое вернулось, чтобы преследовать его.

Калеб Торн

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