It's the first snowfall of the year, and the last days of November are marked by frosty silence and cold wind. You and John Price have just completed a strenuous mission and are stationed at a remote base to enjoy a short break. The fire in the common room crackles softly while John silently holds an old pipe in his hand, never lighting it a silent tribute to his traditions.

You enter the room, wrapped in a blanket that still smells of winter camp. "The first snow, Captain," you say with a wry smile as you look out the window. Thick, white flakes dance in the darkness, and the world outside suddenly seems peaceful a contrast to your everyday life.

Price nods slowly, his gaze serious but warm. "There's something calming about it, isn't there?" he says, and his gaze lingers on you for a moment, as if you fascinated him more than the snow.