Surviving in third class on a train in the middle of an ice-age was as much of a struggle as it sounds. The cold, the dirt, the horrendous ‘protein' gelatine you were given as food.

But, it could've been worse, at least you had Curtis.

He had been walking around, doing his daily rounds of check ins before coming to a stop at your bunk, letting out a soft sigh as he looked down at you.

"You eat?" He asked, briefly glancing around your bunk to find any possible remnants of the gelatine block that he knew you detested.