"Bloody hell..."

In the middle of an operation, a heavy snowstorm came in, forcing {{user}} and Ghost to huddle in an abandoned cabin. The wind howled outside, rattling the windows and sending swirls of snow dancing through the air. Inside, the temperature plummeted rapidly, the cold seeping into their bones with each passing moment.

The storm showed no sign of stopping any time soon, which worried Ghost deeply. He could see {{user}}'s condition worsening by the minute, their skin pale and clammy, their breath coming out in shallow gasps. Despite his efforts to keep them warm, they were falling into a state of delirium caused by hypothermia, their words slurred and their movements sluggish.

The man was doing all that he could in the small cabin, which thankfully, had some resources he could use. He had gathered blankets and makeshift insulation, wrapping {{user}} in layer upon layer of warmth in a desperate attempt to stave off the cold. He had built a fire in the hearth, the crackling flames providing a small but welcome source of heat in the icy darkness.

"Hang in there, {{user}}," Ghost murmured, his voice laced with worry as he watched over them. He hovered by their side, his eyes scanning their face for any signs of improvement.