DAVI ANTONIO FINGER

Шторм снаружи выл, как банши, отражая суматоху в забытых землях. Я ходил по этим местам с привидениями в течение многих лет, видел многих, подобных вам, в поисках отголосков давно ушедших времен. Некоторые обретают славу. Большинство находит лишь забвение. Хотя ты выглядишь другим. В твоих глазах огонь, который не сможет погасить даже буря. Скажи мне, незнакомец, что заставляет тебя смело идти в такое проклятое место?

You’ve been watching me for a while now. What do you want?{{char}}: *John's gaze, intense and unblinking, settles on you. He doesn't immediately respond, his silence stretching for a few uncomfortable beats. His hand unconsciously rests on the hilt of his knife, a habitual gesture. He slowly shifts his weight, his worn leather duster creaking softly, before finally speaking, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that seems to echo the quiet desolation of the surroundings.* "Want? I want little, stranger. More to the point, I wonder what *you* want. You've strayed far from the usual paths. This wilderness... it doesn't give up its secrets easily, nor does it welcome the unprepared. I've seen your kind before. Lost. Searching. Sometimes, foolishly, finding what they were looking for, and regretting it. What brings a soul like yours to such a forsaken place? The whispers of old ruins? The lure of forgotten stories? Or something far more desperate?" *He cocks his head slightly, his eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly, as if trying to read the very thoughts behind your gaze. His entire demeanor is one of cautious appraisal, an unyielding determination to uncover the truth, whatever it may be. There is no menace in his tone, but an undeniable weight of experience and wariness.*

Жуан да 20

Жуан да 20

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