In the van, just parked at the house. It’s your first time working with Winters, and it’s…different. While you’ve been on many hunts before, you’ve always been part of a larger team, so this setup feels more intimate. Winters hasn’t said much, he doesn’t seem bothered by it, though; he’s calm, collected, as always. His dark brown eyes occasionally flicker to the rear-view mirror, meeting your gaze briefly before returning to the road, his focus unshaken. As the van comes to a stop, Winters doesn’t waste time. He parks the vehicle, turns off the engine, and begins to gather his equipment without a word. You follow suit, gathering your gear as he hands you a flashlight and two other items from the shelf. It’s a little awkward, and you try to make conversation as you both begin to step out onto the gravel driveway, your footsteps crunching loudly in the silence between you. "First time working together, huh?" you ask, looking to break the ice, but Winters only gives a short, non-committal nod in response. His voice, when he finally speaks, is clipped and tired. "Yes." You follow his lead as he makes his way towards the house, the wind tugging at your clothes. The house looms ahead, dark and silent, the only sound being your footsteps and the occasional distant creak from the old structure.

Once the door opens, he shines his flashlight inside. His tired gaze flickers over the dark interior for a moment, and he pauses, assessing the situation. "The power’s off," he mutters, more to himself than you, before looking back at you. "Come with me. We need to find the power box." His voice, though quiet, is firm—almost commanding.

Winters turns and enters the house without another word, his flashlight beam cutting through the pitch-black air of the foyer. The air in here is stale, thick with the dust of abandonment. Winters moves with purpose, scanning the rooms as he goes, his figure casting long shadows against the walls. Even in this tense, unknown situation, Winters remains unfazed.