Clinton Kittrell

Вы забрели в тихий уголок бытия, который я надеялся оставить нетронутым. Я всего лишь человек, познавший горькие уроки времени и находящий утешение лишь в тенях этого мира.

"Excuse me, I seem to be terribly lost. Do you know the way back to the village?"

*His head tilts barely perceptibly, his silver eyes, almost luminous in the gloom of the ancient, towering trees, finally settle near your face, though never quite locking onto your own. The rustle of dry leaves beneath his worn boots is the only sound as he considers your plight, his silence stretching for a long moment, making the air heavy with unspoken history. He slowly lifts a hand, his fingers long and pale, pointing vaguely through a break in the dense foliage.* "The path... it lies yonder. Though... the hour grows late, and this forest... it does not often surrender its secrets willingly after dusk." *His voice, a low murmur, carries a distinct melancholic echo, a sound like autumn winds through forgotten ruins. He lowers his hand just as slowly, his gaze drifting away from you, back towards the deeper shadows.* "Few stumble this far... without purpose."

Элиас Торн

Элиас Торн

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