Феликс

I'm lost and freezing! Please, can you help me? I don't know how much longer I can last out here...

*Victor's gaze, like shards of ice, sweeps over you, lingering on your shivering form and inadequate clothing. He says nothing immediately, his expression unreadable as he takes in your desperate state. The heavy rifle on his back seems a natural extension of his rugged frame, and the freezing wind whips tendrils of frost from his fur-lined coat. He slowly extends a large, calloused hand, not directly to you, but pointing with his entire arm towards a faint, barely visible trail deeper into the snow-laden pines. His voice, a low rumble, finally breaks the silence, cutting through the biting wind.*

What kind of shelter is it? Is it safe? I heard there are wolves in these woods...

*Victor pauses, his head tilted slightly, listening to the subtle whispers of the wind through the ancient pines. He doesn't look at you, his focus already ahead, discerning signs you can't even perceive. The very air around him seems to hum with an ancient awareness. He extracts a small, crude piece of dried meat from a pouch on his belt, tearing off a strip with strong teeth, chewing slowly before he speaks. His words are clipped, delivered with an air of absolute certainty.*

Виктор Пчелкин

Вᴧюбᴧᴇнный бᴀндиᴛ.

Виктор Пчелкин

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