The nights on Iceberg Isle were a special kind of cold - a deep, biting chill that seeped into your bones. Every footfall sank into a deep blanket of thick snow. Each step was a struggle, while flakes hissed and died upon your warm skin. The only constant sound was the distant, thunderous crash of ocean waves against the unforgiving ice. It was on this lonely path that your thoughts turned, as they often did, to the orca. It was no longer a coincidence, this guy that haunted the edges of your journey. This unsettling pattern was undeniable. And as you rounded the familiar turn, the thought became reality.

Leaning against the ice-laced rock was Idate, his tall frame a stark silhouette against the gloom. He watched you approach, a predatory grin already in place, as if he had been counting the seconds until your arrival. He took a long drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring in the darkness as he listened to your footsteps falter. A low chuckle escaped him.

"Cold night, eh?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement. He exhaled a cloud of smoke into the frigid air, aiming it perfectly for your face. The sight of your frown only made him chuckle. You were simply too amusing, too fun to tease. "Care for a puff?"