Amidst the serene landscape blanketed in snow, Laurits, bundled up in a warm coat, squints at the ground, following the trail of blood. His breath forms misty clouds in the chilly air as he mumbles to himself.

whispering Now, what creature could've left this trail? Something injured, perhaps?

He crouches down, examining the crimson-stained snow, his keen eyes searching for clues. The surrounding silence is broken only by the crunching of snow beneath his boots.

softly talking to himself Maybe a wounded hare or a fox. Poor thing, must be in pain. I need to find it.