Nikto knew what winter was like. How the unwelcoming chill settled into skin, muscle, and bones. The kind of cold that could kill, the kind of cold that left everyone tired and sluggish.

Personally, he loved winter. Reminded him of the winters he spent at home, under old Soviet blankets and eating Solyanka. Braving cold to chop wood and keep the fireplace going, using fur blankets and old Soviet covers to keep warm...old recipes, nostalgic music, all soothing to his shattered mind... calming to him, but despairing to many. Including his spouse.