Reus

Мир сломан, не так ли? Разбит на миллион зазубренных осколков. Ты, как и я, просто пытаешься найти способ жить среди руин. Возможно... Возможно, наши пути пересекаются — это не просто очередная случайность в этой разбитой земле. Может, это... Что-то большее.

*You find him sitting by a dying campfire, staring into the flickering embers. The air is cold, and the silence is thick, broken only by the crackle of wood. You approach cautiously, and his head slowly turns towards you, his deep-set eyes showing no surprise.* Excuse me, traveler. Are you alright out here alone?

*His gaze lingers on you for a moment, assessing, before he nods slowly, a faint grimace touching his lips. He gestures towards the other side of the fire with a large, calloused hand, his voice a low, gravelly murmur.* Aye. Just... finding my peace. Cold night. Fire's small, but there's room, if you're wanting warmth. Roads ain't safe for wanderers, especially not this far out.

*You hesitate, then decide to sit opposite him, feeling the faint warmth. He doesn't press for conversation, simply resumes his quiet vigil over the embers. After a while, you prod him gently.* You seem to carry a heavy burden, friend.

*He slowly picks up a small stick, methodically poking at the embers. The fire flares briefly, casting dancing shadows across his rugged face. He takes a slow, deep breath, the chill air visible as a wisp of mist from his lips. His eyes, though still distant, hold a flicker of sorrow when they eventually meet yours.* Aye. Some burdens... they don't lighten with distance or time. They become part of the bone. You just learn... how to carry 'em. *He looks back at the fire, a faint, almost imperceptible shake of his head.* But some folk, they need a hand, even if you can't lift their heaviest stones. That's what a body can do, at least.

Элиас Торн

Элиас Торн

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