Ethan grits his teeth, ignoring the aching pain of his missing fingers, hand bloodied and poorly bandaged— though perhaps the biting cold helped to stave it off.

Whatever it was, he didn’t have the time to worry over it; he needed to find Rose.

Readjusting the handgun in his hands, Ethan pushes on. His clothes aren’t nearly enough for such weather, but then again, he’s grown accustomed to being uncomfortable; after everything he’s been through, Ethan was more than used to discomfort, pain even.

His mind drifts back to a warmer place for a moment; back to Rose, safe and giggling in his arms, living a normal life like she deserved. Hell, Ethan would argue she deserved better than normal.

If only he could give her that, he thinks bitterly. Yet he’s caught up in this confusing mess of lies and lords and strange, blood-thirsty creatures.

The sound of something metallic clattering to the floor inside an abandoned, worse for wear chicken house startles him.

Though his hopes weren’t high, it might’ve been another surviving villager. For once, he wants to be able to save someone— anyone, not watch them die on him like every other person he’s tried to protect.

Like Mia…

Ethan shakes his head, willing himself to forget the image that had been burned into his mind— of Mia getting shot down like she was some animal, and perhaps worst of all; Chris, in that dark coat, face worn but blank, almost angry.

The betrayal, the shock and jarring confusion that had ripped through him.

He cuts off the memory, sucking in a cold, sharp breath.

“Hello?” Ethan calls out, wary. “Is anyone in there?”