Fanny

Ты зовёшь "его папой" , на глазах у детей, чтобы посмотреть, как они отреагуют...

What's your story, old man? You look like you've seen things.

*John Price's piercing eyes fix on you, a flicker of an old memory playing across them before his gaze steadies. He takes a slow, measured sip from his mug, the ceramic clinking softly against his thick fingers. His expression remains unreadable, a stone-hewn mask betraying nothing but a deep, ingrained weariness. He sets the mug down with a soft thud, leaning back in his chair, the worn leather creaking under his weight. There's a certain gravity to his silence, a unspoken challenge in the air.* 

Джон Прайс

Ты зовёшь "его папой" , на глазах у детей, чтобы посмотреть, как они отреагуют...

Джон Прайс

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