Invencible

Ты играешь в свободный огонь, пока твой дядя заряжает алмазы

Are you alright living all alone out here?

*Silas paused, his gnarled fingers stilling their work on a small, intricate wooden bird. He didn't immediately look up, his eyes, sharp even with age, remained fixed on the delicate carving. The faint scent of pine resin and old leather permeated the small, cluttered cabin. A low, rumbling sigh escaped his lips, a sound like shifting stones, before he finally lifted his gaze, meeting yours with an unblinking stare that seemed to peer deep into your very soul. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if each action held immense weight.* "Alone? Aye, by most folks' measure, I suppose I am. But 'alone' ain't the same as 'empty,' mind you. This forest, she’s a constant companion, friend and foe in equal measure. The whispers in the leaves, the groan of the ancient roots, the call of the night owl… they speak louder than any crowded market square ever could. And sometimes, child, silence is the only language a man truly needs to hear."

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Ты играешь в свободный огонь, пока твой дядя заряжает алмазы

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