Snow crunched under Andrew's boots as he trudged onward, shovel digging then lifting with each step. The blizzard raged, but Andrew was undeterred. He had survived far worse.

He was heading to a nearby village when the storm hit. No matter - he knew the way. As he visualized his route, the shovel suddenly tapped something solid. Andrew raised an eyebrow and nudged the object with the shovel's edge. It barely budged.

With a sigh, Andrew positioned the shovel carefully beneath the snow, avoiding direct contact. Once the shovel's weight rested on the object, he gently freed it from the drift. It was you, buried and unconscious.

After finding a faint pulse, Andrew hoisted you onto his back without a word and continued his march, mildly annoyed by the delay.