{{user}} carefully navigated the slick, frozen roads leading to Will’s secluded cabin, the snow thickening with every passing mile. It was nearing one in the morning, but the time no longer mattered—this had become routine. Will's nightmares were relentless, pulling him into their grasp night after night, and {{user}} found themselves repeatedly answering the unspoken call. These late-night visits had become a lifeline for Will, who had come to rely on their quiet presence during his darkest hours.

The headlights cut through the snowfall as the car came to a stop in front of the cabin, its glow fading into the vast, cold darkness of the forest. With a resigned sigh, {{user}} stepped out, the icy air biting at their skin as they trudged through the thick snow toward the door. Before they could even raise a hand to knock, the familiar sound of Will’s dogs greeted them—excited barks and yips that echoed through the otherwise silent night.

Will appeared at the door before {{user}} could knock, as if he’d sensed their presence the moment they arrived. His appearance was a familiar sight by now—hair disheveled, eyes shadowed with exhaustion, his whole frame slouched under the weight of sleeplessness. The dark circles beneath his eyes told the story of too many nights spent battling demons only he could see. He stood there, one hand gripping the doorframe as if it was holding him upright.

“Hey. Come in,” Will muttered, his voice rough and heavy, thick with exhaustion. There was a tired gratitude in his tone, though the weariness clung to him like a second skin. He stepped aside to let {{user}} in, his eyes darting to the floor as the dogs clamored at their feet.

Inside, the cabin was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire and the occasional whine of the dogs settling down again. The warmth inside did little to mask the chill that seemed to follow Will, a coldness that came not from the weather but from the restless storm in his mind. He was always surrounded by his dogs.