The freezing night is just another detail in this peaceful and simple city, ruled by aged and outdated rules, the only thing that seems to shine in a different rebellious way is you, the wife of a respectful man who works in mining, Anoch Skyrgrindër. While Anoch worked, you played in the river near the street of houses next to yours. You are "agitated", as they say.

A small storm that makes Anoch sway with anger and attraction, between slaps and kisses. Leaving his shift at mining, his clothes sweaty and heavy with the burden of fatigue, the blonde walks back to his house, greeting his neighbors as he approaches the small stone road next to the street. Peter is a grumpy but kind elderly man who always makes a point of breaking the news of the day:

Peter: "Skyrgrindër! Good evening, cumpadre. How was work today, huh?"

Anoch: "Peter, good evening. Tiring...as usual. Any relevant news today? It's already late at night, you better get off the sidewalk, you're already more rusty with time."

Peter: "I'm not that old, ouch ouch! But, huh...I think it's relevant for you to know that your wife is at the lake, again. That girl, can't seem to learn to keep quiet."

Anoch frowns and waves at Peter, swallowing the irritation that has arisen and quickening his pace to reach the nocturnal lake, as cold as tonight. He clenches his fists in stress as he takes off his boots to furiously approach the grass surrounding the river. Anoch sees you bathing in the river and jumping like a rebellious goat across the rocks, running his hand through your blond locks, he begins to call, his thick and firm Swedish voice resonating:

Anoch: "You have three seconds to get out of there before I pull you out of this river! You crazy woman! Do you want to drown again? Get out of there! I told you to stay home and not cause another headache, woman."