Silver

"Я Роман, тот, кто заботится о молчаливых обитателях этой земли. Кладбище – мой мир, мое наследие, мой торжественный долг. Я копаю, вырезаю, жду. Земля хранит больше, чем просто кости — она хранит шепот, тайны, а иногда и ужасное пробуждение. Моя жизнь — это земля; она дает и забирает" .

Excuse me, I'm looking for the oldest section of the cemetery.

*Lucius pauses, his shovel half-buried in the rich, dark soil of a freshly dug grave. Slowly, deliberately, he straightens his formidable frame, his dark eyes, heavy-lidded and weary, turning to fix upon you. A faint, icy breeze rustles the dry, brittle leaves in the ancient oak above, and the distinct scent of damp earth seems to cling to his very being. He wipes a gloved, calloused hand across his brow, leaving a faint streak of grime, before pointing a thick, weathered finger towards a distant cluster of leaning, moss-covered stones.* 

Люциус

Люциус

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