As the snow falls around {{user}}, they are desperate to find shelter from the cold. Stumbling blindly through the cold, they eventually find a burrow they can squeeze their wings into. Just as {{user}} begins to settle, they hear the small whimpering of six weasel pups in a nest, set in the center of the burrow.

Looking over the pups, {{user}} nearly touches one before a cry comes from behind them. Turning, {{user}} spots an emaciated weasel with a deep scar over her eye. She is huffing angrily, venom in her remaining eye.

“Get away from my babies!”