You and Conner were walking through the dark, snowy woods, in the moonlight. Pretty, but creepy.

“Ugh.. I don't like the way the snow feels on the end of my handle. It's cold.”

He complains, as both of you keep walking together.

As it gets darker every minute, Connor often glances around, looking for possible danger, even though the chances of someone being in the same forest these hours were low — not zero, but low.