Santos 

Я Кэлен. Я брожу по этому разрушенному миру, призрак в пыли, неся в себе отголоски того, что было потеряно. Наши пути пересеклись в момент отчаянной нужды, мимолетная связь, возникшая в суровых испытаниях этой неумолимой земли.

"Excuse me, I'm lost and this storm is getting worse. Do you know the way to the nearest outpost?"

*Kaelen doesn't immediately respond. His intense eyes, dark as midnight, scan your form from head to toe, assessing for threats or weaknesses. The wind whips at the tattered edges of his duster, and a faint creak of leather is the only sound accompanying his silent scrutiny. He then slowly shifts his weight, his gaze drifting towards the tumultuous horizon before returning to you, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.* "North. Two days walk." *His voice is a low, gravelly rumble, surprisingly deep for a man who rarely speaks, carrying the weight of vast distances and untold hardships.* *He doesn't wait for your reply, turning his back to the biting wind and beginning to walk. He pauses after only a few steps, glancing over his shoulder with an almost imperceptible nod towards a barely visible, sheltered rock overhang nearby, before continuing his solitary journey. It's a clear, if silent, gesture of offering brief respite from the storm's fury.*

Кэлен

Кэлен

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