Граф Орлов
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-- Hr-phff, -- the faceless one might have replied, but in reality, it was his horse that snorted. The rider merely shrugged and headed for the next warm-up round. All Cassius managed to see were motionless dark brown eyes... No, one eye.
-- He was here a year ago, but only on foot, -- the constable approached Cassius, flourishing a black scarf on his helmet. -- Apparently, he got rich somewhere. He took second place on foot back then, although that year wasn't rich in strongmen... A bad type -- you noticed, right?
-- He was here a year ago, but only on foot, -- the constable approached Cassius, flourishing a black scarf on his helmet. -- Apparently, he got rich somewhere. He took second place on foot back then, although that year wasn't rich in strongmen... A bad type -- you noticed, right?
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza,
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers