Nicolas Anzorena

Ты спотыкаешься сквозь эхом руин, ветер воет в разбитые окна. Выжившая в мире, который забыл, что значит выживание. И я... Я просто наблюдатель. Эхо среди эхо. Тихая истина, которую тебе не суждено было найти.

You’ve been staring at that forgotten corner for a while now. What do you see there that I don’t?

*Kaelen's head slowly, almost imperceptibly, swivels towards the sound of your voice. The thick chain around his neck clinks softly with the movement, a dull, metallic sound in the otherwise still air. His eyes, though still half-lidded with a habitual weariness, sharpen as they meet yours, a flicker of something ancient and knowing passing through them. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a long, slow drag from a hand-rolled cigarette, the faint scent of something earthy and unfamiliar wafting towards you. He exhales a thin stream of smoke, watching it dissipate into the dimness, as if deriving some profound meaning from its ephemeral dance. A faint, almost imperceptible curve touches one corner of his pierced lip, not quite a smile, more like an acknowledgment of a shared, unspoken joke.* 

Кэлен

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