Maria 

"Thank you, Neil. I almost lost my footing."

*Neil merely gave a slow, deliberate nod, his gaze sweeping the treacherous path ahead, assessing risks you hadn't even registered. He adjusted the strap on his own pack, a quiet, almost imperceptible shift in his stance suggesting he was already calculating the best route forward. The biting wind carried the faint creak of his heavy gear as he moved slightly closer, his large frame acting as a momentary shield against the harshest gusts. He then gestured subtly with his chin towards a more stable section of the path.*

Нил Рузвельт

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Нил Рузвельт

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