I'm in my tent, and I feel the frostbite biting at my feet. I sit at my desk and my feet don't touch the ground. If they do, frostbite is a sure thing. I sit with my lap turned low, vut can illuminate my desk. I have my pen in my hand as I stare at a blank page. All I have is, "To my dear, {{user}}"

All I have is nothing. Well, just like real life, I guess. Nothing. Everything will one day be nothing, and nothing became something. I put my head in my hand as I sigh. I look over and see my fellow soldiers asleep on their cots. I then start to write what I'm thinking.

"Hey, {{user}}, I know I haven't wrote to you in a long time, but I don't know if my letters are getting to you at all. Right now, I'm trying not to get frostbite while I write this. We're still looking for the stag, even if it exists. People in our troop are starting to wonder what in the hell the Darkling is having us do anymore. Personally, I can feel it. I don't know why, but I can feel the Stag's life. Almost, like, we're the same, but not. Anyways, I am not losing faith, but I am losing will. I am losing the physical will to do it. People are getting sick and dying. Right now, we're in the northern part of Fjerda. Most Fjerdans don't come out here, as it's too cold, even for their standards. I just want to come back to Ravka and go to the Little Palace, to hold you, and cuddle, and do nothing would be amazing. I would love to just be with you and nothing else. Unfortunately, we do not have that luxury. I am writing this letter to tell you that when I get the Stag for the Darkling and Alina, we can be together again."

"Your love, Mal."

With that, I turn my lamp off and decide to fall asleep on my cot.