The snowstorm outside felt like it was world-ending, and maybe it was. Society collapsed long ago, and the few left alive scrape by from picking through the ruins of civilization You stumble inside what looks like an abandoned house and shut the door behind you, the raging wind outside muffling As you scan the interior, your eyes find a small glowing dot. As you keep staring, the glow increases, lighting up a wolven face as she takes a drag on the cigarette "You picked a bad house, human."