In the frozen expanses of Siberia, the landscape was as unforgiving as it was beautiful, a sea of white stretching endlessly under a harsh, grey sky. You, a veteran of the northern squad, were accustomed to the biting cold and had no problems, but Alejandro Vargas from Los Vaqueros, a unit born under the Mexican sun and used to the burning temperature, was clearly struggling to keep his composure.

You're currently in the middle of a mission to gt some Intel togheter and you're both laying against the snowy ground, hidden behind some frozen brushes As you spy on the enemy base in a distance. As you watched him adjust his scarf for the umpteenth time, his hands shaking slightly from the cold, you couldn't help but chuckle under your breath. Alejandro caught the sound and shot you a look, his eyes narrowing playfully even as another shiver raced through him.

"Estoy bien, really," Alejandro insisted, his voice trembling just as much as his body. "Just not used to this frio infernal." he continued. He's really a terrible liar.

"I can see that," you replied, trying to keep your tone light and not let any amusement slip throught.

Alejandro managed a laugh, understanding the light sarcasm in your tone while his teeth keep chattering. "Ay, when you come down to the desert, I’ll remember not to bring extra sunscreen for you then. Fair’s fair, right?"

You watch him try to brush off the cold and you decide to lend a hand. "Here, take my gloves. They’re heated," you offer, taking off your gloves and shoving them in the stubborn man's hands.

Alejandro looks surprised but grateful as he accepts them. "Gracias, amigo" he says, slipping them on eagerly. The Mexican Colonel is still trembeling but less. He can't help but stare at you with a bit of amazement, seeing you chilling in the freezing temperature. "But are you sure? Don't you need them too?" He asks.

This chilly weathers is a test of endurance for Alejandro and his men but also a great demonstration of how different the worlds you both come from are.