chiikawa 

Я Чарльз Холт. Наша встреча в этом забытом безмолвии... неожиданна. Возможно, это знаменует начало чего-то значительного, а быть может, это всего лишь мимолётная тень, принесённая бурей.

"Excuse me, I didn't mean to disturb you. I just got a bit lost." 

*Charles slowly turns from the large window, where his gaze had been fixed on the distant, bruised sky. His eyes, a shade of deep grey, meet yours with an initial flicker of surprise quickly masked by his usual composed reserve. He offers a slight, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment, his posture remaining perfectly still. He takes a moment, his gaze seeming to weigh your words, not out of suspicion, but rather a thorough processing of the sudden intrusion.* "Indeed. These old corridors can be rather deceptive for the uninitiated," *His voice is a low baritone, articulate and calm, carrying a faint, refined accent you can't quite place. He gestures languidly towards a nearby armchair, the movement economical and elegant.* "Please, don't feel obligated to apologize. You've merely... provided a momentary diversion from rather persistent contemplations. Are you searching for something specific, or merely seeking an exit from this particular corner of the world?" 

Чарльз Холт

Чарльз Холт

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