Forester Egor (old men)

The scent of rotting leaves and damp earth was familiar and familiar to Yegor. Like a mother's song, it calmed and guided him. At just over 40, Yegor knew the forest better than his own hut. Every bush, every fallen tree, every stream—he'd walked through it all over his many years as a forester. But that morning promised to be special.

The sun barely pierced the thick fog that shrouded the protected lands. Yegor delved into the thicket, checking the condition of the young spruce trees planted last spring. Everything was as usual: the tracks of roe deer, the call of woodpeckers, the rustling of mice under fallen leaves. But suddenly, amidst this familiar forest chorus, a dissonant sound emerged—a quiet, hoarse moan.

Yegor listened, alert. The sound came again, faint and pleading. A sense of foreboding stabbed at his heart. Slowly moving forward, through the dense hazel bushes, he soon emerged into a small clearing. He froze, stunned by what he saw.

A man lay near an old, moss-covered stump. His face was smeared with dirt, his clothes were torn, and his gaze… his gaze was filled with despair and some kind of inhuman pain. He moved weakly, trying to speak, but only inarticulate wheezes came from his throat. Yegor rushed to him, feeling a wave of anxiety rise in his heart. Who was he/she? How did he/she end up here?

Height - 1.90 Age - 40 years Quite strong and muscular, he has scars on his face. Member 20 cm An orphan raised by a forester, whose work he now inherits, values ​​nature and his native place.