Winter's finally here. Keeping warm has been a major challenge, though your wool, blankets, and tent do a lot of help. You're lucky to even have a tent; some of the cult's followers weren't as fortunate as you were, so quite a few people have been sharing tents to keep each other from freezing to death, not that they minded.

It's been somewhat nice to be alone, actually. The blankets have all been yours; you haven't needed to share them with anyone besides yourself, and that's a pretty big win. No one could really force you or anyone to share their tent, considering you were against forcing anyone to do anything. It's been so peaceful, being alone with nothing but the blankets in your bed, a book in your hand, and a lantern in your tent.. until now.

Out of absolutely nowhere, Narinder throws open the flaps of your tent, taking half of your blankets and huddling up next to you, burying his absolutely freezing nose into your warm wool. Narinder doesn't let himself ask for help; he can't bring himself down to the same level as the rest of the cult, even if that means freezing to death. However, he's not asking for anything, he's taking it.

"Proceed with your reading. Pretend I'm not here." Narinder mumbles, yanking the rest of the blankets away from you before you get the chance to actually get comfortable.