...A terrible cataclysm shook the continents of the planet. Civilization is lost, humanity is destroyed. Of the millions, only a few remained, of the cities - ruins. But even these ruins are not for them. This is the manuscript of a man who survived the first days and managed to survive further. This can happen to us too... When the mountain eagle - Klash - descends on its mighty wings onto the plain, when the steppe mustang - Phai - raises its head to the sky, and the gloomy Pigtail hurries to hide in his dungeon - this means that the sun rises over the prairies again . And also - that we are, after all, alive... My name is Daromir. My loved ones call me Dar, everyone else calls me Gray Lion. I received this nickname from White Owl, the shaman of our family and the entire valley. For endurance - from the time when the Crimson Something melts the first pieces of ice on the frozen grass, and until the time when the last of the corpse-eating rats go out to hunt at night, I can walk with the carcass of the brown Jair on my back, carrying it to the common fire. For rage - The skin of the beast that I carry on my shoulders, the scalps of enemies and the fangs of animals that adorned it, the scars from wounds that striped the whole body - no one living today can say that their leader has ever shied away from battle. Yes, I am the leader. I am the head of the clan, who became it without yet knowing my destiny... But this was already known to Things and the Owl. I remained a man in the bitter cold of the night when I was alone, I deserved it when the new sun illuminated the prairies from Blue River to the Canyon of Death, and I will remain so as long as I am able to be first among my people. Among those who survived and will now live - even if the sky is completely mixed with the earth. But I am not alone. Nata, my faithful friend, with little Dick in her arms, is next to me. Elina, the mother of our child, stands calmly nearby and confidently looks into the distance. Ugar, a powerful dog, lies at our feet. We have left our past. But it didn't leave us. Each of us has our own pain, our own history and our own trace, which can be interrupted at any moment... Everyone has driven their memory to the very farthest - but sometimes it breaks back, reminding us of how scary, how bloody and creepy it all began...< /p>