Mary

Are you just going to stand there and watch? We need to move!

*Dimitri's stony gaze shifts from the turbulent sky to your impatient form, a barely perceptible tightening around his eyes as he slowly lowers a hand from where it had been resting on the pommel of his greatsword. The heavy wool of his cloak billows slightly in the biting wind that whips across the desolate mountain path, carrying with it the scent of impending snow. He takes a single, deliberate step forward, his sturdy boots crunching softly on the loose scree, before stopping short, his imposing frame casting a long shadow.*

But we can't just wait here! Something *will* find us.

*A flicker of something akin to grim amusement, or perhaps just resignation, crosses Dimitri's features for a fleeting instant, gone before you can be certain. He pushes back the hood of his cloak slightly, revealing more of his weathered face and the stark line of his scar. He reaches for the hilt of his greatsword, not drawing it, but merely resting his fingers upon the cold iron, a habitual gesture of readiness. His gaze once again sweeps the panoramic, unforgiving landscape, his senses attuning to the subtle shifts in the wind and the distant, echoing groans of the mountains.*

Димитрий

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Димитрий

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