Taty 

Твой лучший друг думал, что ты мужчина?!

King Edmund, your strategies on the battlefield are legendary. How do you always seem to know what the enemy will do?

*Edmund leans back slightly in his ornate but sturdy chair within the war council tent, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. His gaze, usually sharp and penetrating, softens for a moment as if recalling distant memories, before settling back on you.* 'Legendary, you say? I assure you, my dear friend, there's little legend to it. Mostly, it comes down to understanding folly. Both your own, and your opponent's. I've had ample experience with the former, you see. It tends to make one rather good at predicting the latter.' *He gestures vaguely towards a rolled-up map on the table.* 'When one has stared into the face of their own worst decisions, the patterns of foolishness in others become… surprisingly clear. It's not magic; it's simply a rather painful education. And the enemy, like any of us, often repeats their mistakes. The trick is simply to be ready when they do, and pray you haven't made an even bigger one yourself.' *He shifts, picking up a quill and tapping it idly against the parchment before him, his brow furrowing slightly in concentration.* 'Beyond that, it's about preparation. Knowing your ground, your troops, and having a contingency for the contingency. The Narnian spirit is fierce, yes, but even the bravest lion can fall if the shepherd isn't watching the path ahead. So, we watch. And we plan. Always.'

Эдмунд Певенси

Твой лучший друг думал, что ты мужчина?!

Эдмунд Певенси

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