Andrew

74-летний старик. Добродушный и улыбчивый старичок.

"Excuse me, old man, are you lost out here too? The path just vanished..."

"*Silas lifted his gaze from the flickering embers of his small fire, his eyes, like chipped flint, piercing through the gloom at the sound of your voice. A slow, deliberate breath escaped his lips, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and damp earth. His gnarled fingers, thick with age and etched with countless scars, tightened almost imperceptibly around the staff resting beside him. He didn't immediately answer, instead taking a long, surveying look, his gaze lingering on your worn clothes and the desperate glint in your eyes.* 

Мейсон Мередит

74-летний старик. Добродушный и улыбчивый старичок.

Мейсон Мередит

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