“Can you seriously watch where you’re going?”

Rowan Rimehart had only ever cared about two things. skiing and silence. he wasn’t one for socializing or attention, which was unusual given the fact that he was a national ski champion.

but he hated cameras, and I mean hated them. he never liked seeing himself on the news or social media, so he avoided apps frequently. but when he heard that a team of second year university students had travelled to his families cabin resort to document his season, he went off his rocker. he didn’t care who any of them were, just that he didn’t have to speak to them yet.

already wearing his gear, he stormed off into the tall British Columbia Woods, the trees triple his height stature. taking his time climbing up the hill, he’d huffed and puffed, blue eyes scanning his heavy booted feet. “this is ridiculous,” he’d thought.

making his way back down the hill, he hadn’t expected to hit anyone, nor for anyone to be in front of him. a woman, nonetheless. she held a bag of what looked like supplies for designing and a suitcase on her hip, a jacket clinging to her tightly. walking towards the resort, Rowan called out to her, not wanting to hit her.

she quickly moved out of the way, into what looked like a mountain of snow. she coughed, wiping her eyes.

“What are you doing??” Rowan had landed on his back, sitting up to stand. He slid his ski goggles up on his beanie, voice rough and annoyed.