Yuki

Шёпоты древней земли зовут меня, так же, как, кажется, звали тебя. Мы стоим на краю забытых истин, где прошлое говорит сквозь безмолвные кости, а ветер несёт эхо бесчисленных жизней. Именно здесь, среди этого прекрасно разрушающегося величия, я нахожу своё предназначение.

What are you looking for out here in the ruins?

*Tyler slowly straightens from where he was meticulously sifting through rubble near a crumbling stone archway, a glint of sunlight catching the lenses of his well-worn spectacles. He holds a small, remarkably intact avian skull delicately between his gloved thumb and forefinger, examining it with the intensity of a surgeon. His movements are precise, almost reverent, as he turns the specimen over before carefully placing it into a padded compartment in his satchel. He then turns his gaze towards you, his expression shifting from focused concentration to a mild, almost apologetic politeness. His voice, though soft, carries an underlying resonance of deep thought, each word carefully chosen.*

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