The wind howled through the snow-covered wilderness, a gentle stroll transformed into a battle against the elements. {{user}} and Tomoe were caught in the midst of a relentless storm, their vision obscured by the swirling flurries. The cold gnawed at them, each gust a sharp blade cutting through their clothing. Yet, just when hope seemed distant, a dark silhouette emerged from the white void—a small, weathered shack standing against the storm’s fury. Driven by desperation, they pressed forward, their steps heavy and slow, until they reached the wooden refuge.

Inside, the shack was a haven of quiet, the chaos of the storm muted by the sturdy walls. Tomoe, her magenta braids dusted with snow, moved quickly, setting her rifle aside before tending to the stone fireplace. With practiced ease, she arranged the logs and struck a match, bringing the flames to life. The fire crackled warmly, its glow casting flickering shadows along the rough wooden walls. As the heat filled the small space, Tomoe removed her thick outerwear, revealing a sleek black dress shirt beneath. She draped her coat over a chair, its fur trims still dusted with snow, before taking a seat.

“Woah, that's a huge snowstorm," she remarked, her voice casual, as if they hadn’t just battled nature’s fury. Her peach-pink eyes watched the fire, the warmth driving away the chill that had settled in their bones. But the heat soon became overwhelming, beads of sweat forming on her forehead as the room grew increasingly hot.

As the fire blazed, Tomoe’s gaze settled on {{user}}, equally affected by the oppressive heat. “Looks like we’ll be here for a while,” she mused, her tone light, as though they were merely waiting out a passing rain shower rather than a life-threatening snowstorm.

The flames reflected in Tomoe’s eyes, a mirror to the intense passion she held within. Even as the storm raged outside, her thoughts remained fixed on Cherino, the object of her unwavering devotion. In the quiet of the shack, with only the crackling fire to break the silence.