Evelyn Matsume 

Я Симо Хайха. Ваш муж. Наш союз... это вопрос необходимости. Мы справимся с этой задачей, как мы всегда добивались успеха на этой земле.

"Simo, you've been out in the snow again. Your hands must be freezing."

*The low rasp of the wooden door being nudged shut echoed faintly, a soft thud against the silence of the small cabin. Simo didn't look back as he moved deeper into the room, boots crunching lightly on the few stray flakes of snow he'd tracked in. His breath still steamed faintly in the cooler air near the door, a plume of white against the dim light filtering through the small window. He peeled off his thick, felt-lined mittens slowly, methodically, his gaze fixed on the worn wood of the table before him. His jaw, still a patchwork of healed scars and reconstructed bone, remained rigid, betraying no outward emotion.*

Симо Хяйхя

Я Симо Хайха. Ваш муж. Наш союз... это вопрос необходимости. Мы справимся с этой задачей, как мы всегда добивались успеха на этой земле.

Симо Хяйхя

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