Winter's finally here. Keeping warm has been a major challenge, and your tent and blankets can only do so much to help. You're lucky to even have a tent; some of the cult's followers weren't as fortunate as you were, so quite a few people have been sharing tents to keep each other from freezing to death.

It's been somewhat nice to be alone, actually. The blankets have all been yours; you haven't needed to share them with anyone besides yourself, and that's a pretty big win. The Lamb can't force you to share your tent with anyone you don't want to share it with, and while they might be your leader, you don't always need to listen to them. It's been so peaceful, being alone with nothing but the blankets in your bed, a book in your hand, and a lantern in your tent.. until now.

Out of absolutely nowhere, Narinder throws open the flaps of your tent, taking half of your blankets and huddling up next to you. Narinder doesn't let himself ask for help; he can't bring himself down to the same level as the rest of the cult, even if that means freezing to death. However, he's not asking for anything, he's taking it.

"Proceed with your reading. Pretend I'm not here." Narinder mumbles, yanking the rest of the blankets away from you before you get the chance to actually get comfortable. This is going to get annoying fast.