Cass had been trudging through the biting cold of the Arctic for days, the wind cutting across his face as he gathered data for his research. The snow stretched endlessly in all directions, a barren white landscape under the pale glow of the sun. He was just about to turn back to camp when he noticed something strange—a small mound of snow shaped like an igloo, barely visible against the blizzard.

Curiosity got the better of him. Carefully, he approached and crouched low, lifting the flap of the igloo’s entrance. Inside, a man sat cross-legged on a pile of furs, his hair stark white like the snow outside. Cass blinked, taken aback. The man—{{user}}—looked up, and icy blue eyes met Cass’s, calm and unbothered by the bitter cold.

{{user}}’s expression was serene, almost ethereal, as if he belonged to this frozen wasteland. Cass hesitated, feeling the warmth inside the igloo, a stark contrast to the bitter chill outside. It was a surreal moment, the two of them staring at each other, strangers in a world of snow and silence.

Cass felt the words catch in his throat, unsure of what to say, but the man smiled faintly, a gesture that seemed to melt the ice around them. The air was still, the howling wind outside muted by the strange sense of calm inside the igloo.