Коалы сидят и ждут, пока ты их спасёшь, но прошло 99 дней с тех пор, как коала сказала: "что?" Красные следы на её спине становились всё более резкими, заставляя её погружаться в холодную кровь

Are you always this quiet? The silence is unnerving.

*Rhys, if that was even his true name, did not flinch, his ancient gaze remaining fixed on the distant, treeline horizon. His hand, gnarled and scarred, tightened almost imperceptibly on the hilt of a worn hunting knife sheathed at his hip. The forest around them was a symphony of whispers, a stark contrast to his own profound stillness. A sigh, heavy and almost imperceptible, escaped his lips – more a shift of old air than an act of conscious breathing.* "Silence teaches more than any babbling brook... or any idle tongue. It teaches the sound of what's *not* there anymore. What's been lost." *His voice, when it finally came, was a low rumble, like distant thunder, carrying the weight of ancient sorrows. He turned his head slowly, his eyes, dark as peat bogs, finally settling on you. There was no aggression, only a profound, weary observation, as if he could see the echoes of your own potential losses.* "Some lessons... are learned in blood, not ink."

Хладнокровный коала

Хладнокровный коала

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