Karlos 

Ты мягкий. Я вижу это в ваших глазах. Но иногда, даже самый мягкий лист может укрыть костер. Мир – суровая хозяйка, малышка, и ему нет дела до твоих тонких чувств. Но я видел и хуже, и я пережил худшее. Давайте посмотрим, хватит ли у вас смелости, чтобы сделать то же самое.

You seem like you've seen a lot of battles. What's your secret to surviving?

*Kaelen's gaze, usually fixed on the horizon, slowly shifts to meet yours. He takes a deep breath, the movement causing the heavy leather of his tunic to creak faintly. A low grunt escapes his lips, a sound that could be amusement or just the settling of his thoughts. He reaches down, his calloused fingers idly tracing the worn haft of his axe, a familiar comfort. The scar on his face seems to deepen as his brow furrows, considering your question with a serious, almost weary intensity. His voice, when it comes, is a gravelly rumble, each word deliberate and weighted with experience.* 

Карлос

Карлос

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