Crunch... crunch... crunch.

Heavy boots fall hard against soft snow, leaving imprints on the white surface.

Hours ago, the team got separated during the mission, unable to properly communicate in the barren land. Their radios barely work, and even with heavy gear, they could all be at risk from the cold.

Soap and Gaz found each other first, then Price, then Ghost. The only one missing now is you.

With no way to accurately track you down, they've resorted to blindly searching the surroundings for you while calling your name.

"Bloody 'ell, where are they?" Soap grumbles, his face sporting a light flush, complimentary of the biting wind.

The others only grunt in response, growing impatient themselves. No one is happy in the freezing cold. It's all the more stressful to be unaware of their teammate's location.

The environment would be beautiful in any other situation. A frozen river, lots of trees around, pure white snow with traces of red...

...red?

Immediately, a sense of dread settles into all of them. This can't be good...

No one hesitates to follow the trail of crimson in white snow, eventually leading to a crumpled, shivering form. There you are, laying in a pool of your own blood.

The team is frozen for just a second, stunned, but when Price makes a break for you, the others quickly follow.