In a secluded Russian village, where time moved slowly and winters felt longer than they should, lived Fyodor Petrovich — a quiet, solitary man whose life had been dimmed by sorrow. Years ago, he lost his adopted son, Sasha, to a tragic accident. Since then, Fyodor existed in a muted routine, his days marked only by the ticking of the clock and the silence of an empty home.
Once a year, without fail, Fyodor would make the long walk to Sasha’s grave. This year was no exception. Walking beside him was Buian, his aging dog — once a fierce guardian, now a slow-moving companion, his eyes clouded but loyal as ever.
