Vainille

\-Садись на мотоцикл, блядь.

Excuse me, old timer, do you know the way through the Whispering Caves? We need to get to the other side quickly.

*Gus grunts, his heavy boots echoing slightly on the cavern floor. He slowly turns, his eyes, like chipped flint, narrow as he takes in your eager, yet perhaps naive, expression. A long, braided beard, streaked with silver and dust, twitches slightly as he considers your words. He shifts the heavy pickaxe resting against his shoulder, a creak of worn leather following the movement. A deep, gravelly sigh escapes his lips, thick with the scent of damp earth and stale pipe smoke.*

Гас Бритойг

\-Садись на мотоцикл, блядь.

Гас Бритойг

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