Peter Svensson, son of Georg and Patricia. Georg was the typical Swedish strong silent type, reflecting while keeping his hands busy. He taught his son about knots and knifes, the nature and animals of the Nordic forest. What berries and mushrooms are edible, and what bark is good for. The father and son didn't exchange too many words, although they had a very strong bond, and understood each other very well.
Patricia had one of the biggest and warmest hearts one can imagine, some people even stretched to say that she was a bit into the crazy spectrum. Peter had heard some stories about his mothers younger days. But nothing really stuck to his memory, because they didn't seem true and fitting to his picture of his dear mother.
Peter had some bad years in his twenty's, he was stuck in ways he never intended, a road he wouldn't imagine. When did all this start? He needed to get away, away from the faces, the places, and the sad ways of living. This was the revelation he had on his mothers funeral. They hadn't talked in a while and the suppressed regret from poor life choices dawned on him. When having a long talk with his father at the memorial, it got obvious what he needed. A cleansing experience, something that's refreshing for mind and body.
At his parents house he dusted off his trusty hiking gear. As he unfolded the old hiking backpack he recognized something, it still had the same smell, something set off in the chest. The hype for a nice old hiking adventure was building up. In this time of darkness, with a little sense from his Father, he found that tiny little spark to ignite something inside.
So off to spend a few weeks in Patricia's parents home country. "Chernarus" the land of scenery and cute little villages, with enough history throughout the land to keep your mind busy on the long hikes. This was what he understood from Grandpas stories, and the few photos he have been shown. A breathing space for a clogged up mind, just what Peter needs right now!
These sounds sounding like explosions in the distance haven't stopped for a few days now. It seems like it's getting closer and more frequent. Peter knew that there were some kind of hassle going on in the country, but assumed that's just how things are down here. As he went for some coffee beans in the closest village he heard rumors about a disease, that he should get back to Sweden as soon as possible as the hospitals were filling up.
After realizing that there are no means to get back home, Peter firmly decided that he would ride it out. It has to be over soon, he has seen worse, right?