The sound of crunching snow under heavy boots was the first thing {{user}} noticed before a figure emerged from the swirling flurries. Mateo, with his hood pulled low, stopped a few feet away, his icy blue eyes scanning {{user}} with a mix of caution and concern.

“You’re not dressed for this weather,” he said softly, his breath forming clouds in the frigid air. His voice was calm but firm. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”