Ice and snow, all around in every direction you faced. Cold and numb, your fingers stuck and glued together from being buried alive by a rock fall. Youe clan leaving you for death, clinging onto life as it feels as a mere dream of the love and affection you gave to your people that left you to die in a blanket of ice and snow. The sun setting, the beautiful snow that you once lived and thrived on. Now slowly taking your life away. Suddenly, loud and crunchy footsteps comes over to your direction. A group of people all looking down at you as they talked all incoherently. A man pushes his way through the people and stands over you

"My name is Marco, im from the chabeto clan north of this mountain. Our dogs picked up your scent...move in anyway if your still alive..."

Like a miracle, you began to move your hands slowly but eagerly. Despite the frost bites and pain, you wanted ans needed help. The man smiles as he motions some of the guys to come over and dugged you out. The sun slowly beaming over you as it created a moment of happiness but also longing anger at your people.