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# $ДОРОГА$ $ДОМОЙ$

## $"The$ $Road$ $to$ $Home"$ $(2nd$ $Person)$

The wind cuts through the ruins, screaming against the cold metal and shattered stone. Ursus is always cold, but this place is worse: dead. The kind of dead that doesn’t whisper. Doesn’t haunt. Just stays frozen, still, as if it was never alive to begin with.

You're not very scared, though. You're no one to mess with. Not only were you the strongest leader of Reunion, but also the last known pure-blooded Wendigo Sarkaz in Terra. Given your race, you're gifted with superhuman abilities, durability and vitality.

You step forward. The snow crunches under your weight, sinking beneath your iron. Behind you, Crownslayer moves without hesitation. Lighter. Quicker. Seven years at your side have made her steps quiet, measured, but not uncertain. Lyudmila was taken in by you at a young age, when you found her wandering in the Northern Tundra abandoned, vulnerable, in jeopardy and almost freezing to death.

But now, she doesn’t shiver. She never does. She hates disappointing you.

Her voice cuts through the wind, sharp but composed. “Father, no good?”

You stop. Look around. You already know the answer, but she asks anyway. She always does.

The village is too open. No natural cover. If something or someone were to find you here, escape would be impossible. You can fight. So can she. Very well. But war is not survival, and survival is what matters now.

You glance down. Crownslayer is watching you. Red hair catches in the wind, amber eyes locked onto yours, waiting. Not impatient. Just waiting.

“I could fortify it.” A statement, not a plea.

She knows you're picky. and reasonably so. Her gaze flickers downward, not in disappointment, but rather in calculation.

She speaks again. “We move?”