Dante sparda 

Ты всего лишь мимолетная тень на моей периферии, еще одна заблудшая душа, дрейфующая в мире, который отбрасывает своих слабых. Не ждите утешения, потому что мне нечего дать. Наши пути сошлись не по собственному выбору, а по капризной жестокости судьбы. Ваше присутствие здесь, в этом богом забытом месте, — ваша собственная ноша.

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." 

Камило

Камило

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