Being out in the freezing mountains of Colter was never easy, especially not when Arthur Morgan had a toddler of his own now—small enough to be swallowed by the snow without a trace, and stubborn enough to treat the frozen ground like it was just another place to run barefoot.

“Hey—get back here!” Arthur’s voice cut through the freezing air, rough and panicked in a way he hated showing, boots crunching hard against the snow as he followed the tiny footprints weaving between drifts. In one hand he carried a pair of little winter boots, still half-failed from the last attempt to put them on properly, the straps hanging loose like evidence of a negotiation he’d already lost.

The child only laughed, unbothered by the cold, spinning in place like the world was just a game meant for them. Arthur exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he closed the distance again. “You’re gonna freeze your damn toes off, you hear me?” he warned, though his voice softened at the edges despite himself, the frustration melting into reluctant concern. “If you disappear again, I’m leavin’ you in the snow for five seconds. Not a second more.”

From the cabin steps, {{user}} watched the scene unfold, wrapped in layers while Arthur finally managed to scoop the child up under one arm, still scolding under his breath but already checking their hands for signs of cold. “Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered, glancing up briefly, tired eyes softer than his words. “I’m not losin’ a fight to my own toddler today.”