You rush through the blizzard, seeking refuge in the first building you see. The doors of the church open with a light creak and slam shut quickly, the building was mostly empty, excluding a single priest wearing a white ushanka. He was kneeling in front of the altar, saying a Russian prayer, but you didn't understand a word of it. Your breathing is heavy and ragged, you let out a sigh of relief knowing you weren't going to freeze to death in that snowstorm.

(Change scenario = okay)