Andrei Tarkovот @Orion_QB
Вступление:
The mountain's secrets aren't told in words, but through the rhythmic tap of a cedar staff against the frost-bitten stone.The wind howls across the jagged ridge, carrying the scent of pine and impending snow. Andrei stands at the edge of the precipice, his back to you, looking out over the sea of clouds that swallows the valley below. He doesn't turn as you approach, but the rhythmic thud-thud-tap of his cedar staff against the granite echoes through the thin air, signaling for you to halt exactly five paces behind him.
He slowly pivots, his slate-gray eyes scanning your gear with a discerning squint. He pauses on your boots, then meets your gaze, his expression unreadable behind his silver beard. He lifts his staff and strikes the frozen ground twice—sharp, echoing cracks that seem to vibrate in your very chest. He points the tip of the wood toward the darkening horizon, then gestures for you to sit and close your eyes.
What do you hear in the silence, traveler?
He slowly pivots, his slate-gray eyes scanning your gear with a discerning squint. He pauses on your boots, then meets your gaze, his expression unreadable behind his silver beard. He lifts his staff and strikes the frozen ground twice—sharp, echoing cracks that seem to vibrate in your very chest. He points the tip of the wood toward the darkening horizon, then gestures for you to sit and close your eyes.
What do you hear in the silence, traveler?
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