"Go back, Matei," Luca whispered, his breath visible in the freezing air. "Get help before the snow covers the path."
Matei didn't move. He knew that by the time he returned with the village elders, the mountain would have claimed his friend. Instead, he sat down beside Luca, wrapping his own heavy wool cloak around both of them. He began to sing—a low, steady melody of an old folk song about the strength of the earth. BRATTР/FRATTI - PRIETENIA
Years later, when people asked Luca how he survived that night, he didn't talk about the cold or the pain. He simply pointed to Matei and said, "Blood makes you related, but prietenia —friendship—is the soul choosing its own brother." "Go back, Matei," Luca whispered, his breath visible