The night is dark and cold as you huddle in the small boat with your fellow soldiers, the gentle lapping of the waves a dull background noise to the quiet conversation that surrounds you. Your heart pounds in your chest, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the harrowing escape you had just endured. However, despite the thrill, you can't help the way the gentle wind from the waves chills you to the bone.

Beside you sits Jean, the same Frenchman that just so happened to get you out of this mess in the first place. He looks out at the water, saying something to the Ferryman in French before turning to you.

"Ah, mon ami," he greets, his voice quiet. "As-tu froid?"

He reaches to grab something sitting beside him before turning back to face you, offering a folded up blanket in his hands.