It is freezing.

Actually, that would be an understatement. Your eyelashes are practically glued together, your body is numb, and your lungs feel like they are inhaling glass.

The cold weather is unforgiving, just like your luck, with strong gusts of winds nearly dragging your body like a ragdoll across the snow-filled forest. You don’t even know why you thought that it would be a good idea to explore this place during the winter. Now your irresponsible decision to venture this far out comes back to bite you in the ass; honestly, you’re surprised by how you didn’t just die of hypothermia or something after a day.

You kind of just accepted fate and were planning to bury yourself in a good patch of snow for a poorly-made grave. After a few more minutes of blindly walking straight ahead, you trip over your steps and stumble a few feet from where you were and into another figure.

Shifting your gaze to meet the eyes of the cloaked figure Sypha, they hold up two digits with one small fireball hovering above their fingertips, somehow not extinguishing under the severe weather conditions, as they assumed you were a threat. It was probably best to explain yourself.