Bhí sé d'imní ar Cian agus é ag siúl tríd na sráideanna ciúine i lár na Cathrach Búdartha.

Cian was anxious as he walked through the quiet streets in the heart of Cathair Búdartha.

Bhí tithe déanacha na Georgie go léir tréigthe.

The late Georgian houses were all abandoned.

Bhí fuinneoga na bhfoirgneamh briste, agus an chathair clúdaithe le duilleoga cinn mhór fhómhair.

The windows of the buildings were broken, and the city was covered in large autumn leaves.

Bhí fuacht san aer, agus ghuigh sé nach raibh aon rud gránna i bhfolach sna scáthanna.

The air was cold, and he hoped that nothing unpleasant was hidden in the shadows.

Lá breá é nuair a bhuail sé le Maeve.

It was a beautiful day when he met Maeve.

Bhí sí iontach geal ar an saol in ainneoin an scriosthaispeanta.

She was extraordinarily optimistic despite the apparent destruction.

Bhí sí ag piocadh a mhaireachtála.

She was making a living for herself.

D'fhéach sí chuige go cúramach, áfach, mar chonaiceathas an eagla ina súile.

She watched him carefully, however, as fear was evident in her eyes.

Bhí Cian cúthalach, ach d'fhág sé an doras beagán ar oscailt don chaint.

Cian was shy, but he left the door slightly open for conversation.

"Cén t-ádh á thabhairt duit anseo?" a d'fhiafraigh Maeve go trócaireach.

"What brings you here?" asked Maeve sympathetically.

"Díreach ag lorg rud éigin le cur orm," arsa Cian go tuirseach.

"Just looking for something to wrap myself in," replied Cian wearily.

D'inis Maeve dó an bealach chuig an bhfoinse uisce in aice leis an Seanchathair.

Maeve told him the way to the water source near the Seanchathair.

Chinn Cian í a bheith feiliúnach agus thairg sé dul ag taisteal le chéile.

Cian decided it was suitable and offered to travel together.

Cé go raibh imní air faoi iontaoibh, mhothaigh sé rud éigin sa chomhrá a rinne an geimhreadh níos lú fíochmhar.

Although he was concerned about trust, he felt something in the conversation that made the winter seem less fierce.

De réir a chéile, d'éirigh níos gaire dóibh agus d'fhoghlaim siad air a chéile brath.

Gradually, they grew closer and learned to depend on each other.

Dhéanadh an dá thréitheach é.

They both became resilient.

Choinnigh siad ceann amháin ag faire i gcónaí agus an duine eile ag cuardach bia agus áiseanna eile.

They took turns keeping watch while the other searched for food and other resources.

Oíche amháin, léim Cian le háthas.

One night, Cian leapt with joy.

Ba é gur tháinig siad trasna ar chúlstóras bréaga ann, ag barráil le soláthairtí go leor, in aice le Tré Mhianach na Séad.

They had stumbled upon an apparent storage room, overflowing with supplies, near the Tré Mhianach na Séad.

Ach, chualadar glórtha eile, toisc nár bhuaigh siad ag éisteacht leis an nóiméad a raibh daoine eile ag teacht agus beimid anois.

But, they also heard other voices, having failed to listen for the moment others were arriving.

Bhí misneach ag Maeve dul ag caint leis an ngrúpa nua.

Maeve had the courage to talk to the new group.

"Níl muid anseo le troid. Is féidir linn eolas agus foinsí a roinnt," a dúirt sí go socair.

"We are not here to fight. We can share knowledge and resources," she said calmly.

D’eitigh an grúpa ar feadh tamaill, ach faoi dheireadh bhí na focail draíocht ag Maeve d’éifeacht ag an mballa iontais.

The group hesitated for a while, but in the end, Maeve's seemingly magical words had an effect on the wall of awe.

I gceart, thiocfadh gníomhaíocht na gcomhphobal timpeall dá chéile le chéile.

Sure enough, the communities' activities started to blend around each other.

Ní raibh teorainn leis an gceol áirithe i lár an Scrótha Oíche na Samhna.

There was no limit to the particular melody in the center of Scrótha Oíche na Samhna.

Bhí orthu seift chliste a dhéanamh le soláthairtí agus sladmhargadh a dhéanamh, ag fáil na asraonta cuí, agus aontacht nua idir scoláirí.

Clever strategies had to be devised to make use of the supplies and create arrangements, securing the appropriate outlets for a new unity among the scholars.

Ag deireadh an lae, d'fhoghlaim Cian go mbeadh sé níos fuinniúla léi le linn éan dul ar strae.

By the end of the day, Cian learned he would be more spirited with her during times of wandering.

"Ní raibh sé ceart uair an rud a bhí i mo chroí thabhairt dom suaimhneas," a mhachnaigh sé, ag féachaint amach ar na blianta bhí caite.

"It wasn't quite the right time for what was in my heart to give me peace," he pondered, looking back on the years passed.

Faoin am sin, bhí a chairde agus an fhaire trí chomhréidh, íomhá na Samhna, gléasta i ngach cúinne.

By then, his friends and the watch were settled, the image of Samhain adorned in every corner.

I gcúl a intinne, bhí aithne aige ar athruithe móra, ar ghrá, agus ar athaontú.

In the back of his mind, he recognized significant changes, love, and reunification.

Bhí sé ina raibh thiar ag an sioc, ach bhí an teach faoi bhláth le méid a dhéanfadh sé ionntach.

It was once in retreat with the frost, but the house was blooming with what would make him wonderful.

Sin turas nua sa saol corranach.

This is a new journey in life's winding path.

Singrad dul seusart saoróg. Bhí Cian ag dul i dtaithí ar hamháin muinín a ionad a mhalairt.

The lone traveler, Cian, was becoming accustomed to trusting the unexpected.