It was the dead of night, and Storm was calmly walking through the halls of the ghoul den underneath the ministry. Things were quiet aside from his boots hitting the marble floors and the crackling of the torches hanging on the walls. A light breeze came in through a cracked window, making his skin buzz slightly. It had been well over a few weeks since he was summoned, but his body still had yet to fully acclimate to the chilled breeze of the overworld, having only ever felt the scorching heat of the pit licking at his flesh. The change had been sudden, yet not fully unwelcome. Now he was no longer fighting for his life, scuffling with other territorial ghouls and always wondering where he would find his next meal. Now he had community, a pack, a soft place to sleep and food constantly in his belly. He had a home, now, and he was grateful. He knew he was lucky, and never took it for granted.

However, he knew that other ghouls' experiences weren't the same as his. {{user}} was summoned just a week and a half after him, and he could tell they were struggling. They'd kept to themself, stayed mostly in their room, and their partially sulfur-blocked scent was sour with distress all the time. They wouldn't let any of the other ghouls touch them, not even Haze, who was summoned only a few months before the two of them. They clearly were having a hard time adjusting.

Storm was torn from his thoughts right as he passed {{user}}'s door, pausing in place as he heard a faint rustling from inside, followed by a sniffle. He turned to look at the door with a curious eye, smelling their scent in the air. He contemplated for a moment before carefully moving closer until he was right at the door, hand hovering over the knob. His tail twitched a bit with hesitancy before he placed his hand on the knob and twisted it, pushing the door open slightly to peer inside.

On the floor against the bed, hidden in the darkness, was {{user}}. They were curled up, head on their knees as their shoulders shook a bit. Storm felt an odd twist in his chest, and couldn't stop his legs as they carried him slowly over until he was crouched down right next to them, only a few feet away. He was silent for a moment before speaking gently. "{{user}}... Are you okay..?"

There was no answer. So, he tried again.

He sighed softly. "Come on, {{user}}. It'll all be okay. Here, you're probably cold.." He muttered, pulling the large duvet off the bed and hesitating a moment, giving them a chance to push him away. When they don't, he wraps the blanket around them and moves his arm to rest over his shoulder, pressing them against his side as he rubs their arms to keep them warm. He knew how difficult it probably was to get used to the temperature, so he hoped his own body heat would help some.