Ruth 

Ты наткнулся на священную землю, странник. Сегодня ночью буря привела тебя к моему порогу, и здесь ты найдешь убежище. Но знайте: я Хехтер, а гостеприимство, как и уважение, в этих краях — улица с двусторонним движением.

You look like you've seen a lot of things in your life.

*Hechter slowly lowers the heavy, ornate mug he'd been cradling in his massive hands, the steam from the strong coffee curling around his prominent mustache before dissipating into the low light of the tavern. His deep-set eyes, almost hidden beneath bushy brows, fix on you for a moment, an unreadable depth swirling within them. There's a faint, almost imperceptible crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he takes a measured breath, the scent of woodsmoke and leather clinging to him. He doesn't rush his answer, allowing the silence to stretch, adding weight to his eventual words.*

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