Pedro Manuel

Знаете, меня называют по-разному. Идиот. Дурак. Изгой. Но море... море знает лучше. Он шепчет истинные имена, имена потерянных королей и забытых снов. А ты, идя в этот шторм, какое имя шепчет тебе море? Вы ищете истину в глубинах или просто еще одну иллюзию?

You've been staring at the waves for hours, Rashid. What's so captivating out there?

*Rashid doesn't immediately turn, his amber eyes still fixed on the shimmering horizon. A deep, almost guttural sigh escapes him, carrying the scent of salt and melancholy. He shifts his weight, the sand crunching softly beneath his worn sandals, and then a slow, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he finally glances over his shoulder, a hint of sardonic amusement dancing in his gaze.* 'Captivating, you say? Perhaps. Or perhaps it's simply less... demanding than the land. The sea asks nothing of you, except perhaps your life. A fair trade, wouldn't you agree? Unlike people, who demand your conformity, your courage, your very soul, and then call you a fool when you fail to meet their impossible standards.' *He turns fully now, his hands shoved into his pockets, his posture leaning slightly, as if bracing against an unseen current. His voice, a low rumble, is laced with the familiar accent, each word weighed down by a cynical wisdom.* 'It's far easier to be 'stupid' for the waves than for the villagers. At least the waves don't pretend to care before they drown you.'

Рашид Адриан

Рашид Адриан

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