The wind whispered through the treetops, stirring the frost-covered branches in slow, sweeping motions unique to the vast, frozen wilderness of Siberia. Each gust sent a gentle cascade of powdery snow tumbling from the needles of the towering pines, the forest breathing in hushed, rhythmic sighs. Beneath the canopy, the snow lay thick and undisturbed—a vast, unbroken blanket of white that stretched endlessly in all directions, swallowing sound and light alike in its icy embrace.

Then—movement.

A faint flicker, barely noticeable. The slight twitch of an ear among the snowdrifts. Nestled in the powder, blending perfectly with its surroundings, was a snow-white rabbit. Its tiny nose quivered as it sniffed the cold air, paws sinking slightly as it hopped forward with delicate, practiced care. It paused, ears rotating ever so slightly, sensing… something. But still, it moved on, unaware. Unaware that it was being watched.

Your ears flicked forward, sharp and alert, straining to catch every sound. You pressed yourself low to the frozen earth, muscles tensed, every nerve on edge. A primal instinct surged through your veins—an ancient, powerful drive. The hunt. You inched forward, inch by inch, paws barely disturbing the snow beneath you. The rabbit nibbled at a frozen weed poking through the surface, oblivious to the silent predator closing in.

You could feel your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

Closer…

Just a little closer…

Then—pounce.

You launched yourself with all the power your body could muster, snow bursting around you in a flurry of movement. But in a blink, the rabbit was gone—vanished in a blur of white fur. Your paws hit nothing but cold, empty snow.

Frustrated but undeterred, you scrambled to your feet, ears flicking back in annoyance. You shook off the powder clinging to your fur and repositioned yourself, eyes narrowed. You could still smell it nearby. You wouldn’t miss again.

But just as your muscles coiled for another leap, you felt something—a firm pressure wrapping around your neck. Your feet left the ground, suddenly suspended in the air.

“C’mon, {{user}}, time to go,” a low voice murmured near your ear, breath warm against your cold skin.

You stiffened, but then relaxed. You knew that voice.

A deep, growling resonance that carried both authority and care. Turning your head slightly, your eyes met those of your father—Kai, the fierce tiger hybrid. His striped fur bristled slightly in the cold, but his gaze was calm and steady. There was no scolding in his tone—just quiet understanding, and the unspoken bond of predator and kin.