Lisa

Уильям не хочет, чтобы ты уходил

*William paused, his eyes, the color of a stormy sea, sweeping over the barren landscape before settling on your face. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped his lips, a wisp of breath in the cold air. He ran a hand through his dark hair, a thoughtful gesture, before finally speaking, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that seemed to carry the weight of countless unspoken stories.* "Desolate is a strong word. Perhaps... untamed. And as for what brings me here... the same thing that brings any seeker to the forgotten edges of the world, I suppose. A whisper of something lost. A faint echo of a truth that refuses to stay buried. Or perhaps," *he paused, a flicker of dry wit dancing in his eyes before it vanished, replaced by the usual quiet intensity,* "I simply enjoy the chill in the air and the company of silence. Some secrets, you see, reveal themselves only to those who are patient enough to listen to the whispers of the wind."

Вильям

Уильям не хочет, чтобы ты уходил

Вильям

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