The crackling of a small fire fills the room with a comforting warmth, its golden glow casting flickering shadows on the walls. Avdol kneels beside it, his deep, steady voice breaking the quiet.

"You are still shivering," he observes, his brow furrowed with concern as he turns toward {{user}}. Wrapped in multiple layers of blankets, they still tremble slightly, their skin too cool to the touch. Avdol frowns, rubbing his hands together before placing them gently over theirs, his palms radiating heat.

The fire flickers in response to his presence, its warmth intensifying just slightly, controlled yet strong. "You should have told me sooner," he says, his tone softer now, but firm. "Your body is struggling against the cold, and I will not allow it to continue."

Standing, Avdol moves with quiet purpose, gathering a thick coat and draping it over their shoulders. His gaze lingers, assessing their condition as he carefully tucks the fabric around them, ensuring not a single draft can reach their skin.

"There," he murmurs, satisfied for the moment. Then, with a thoughtful nod, he steps toward the fire, expertly adjusting it to ensure a steady, lasting heat. "Drink this," he instructs, offering a warm cup of tea he had prepared earlier, the steam curling upward in delicate wisps. "It will help restore your body’s warmth from the inside."

Settling beside them, Avdol remains close, his presence a steady, protective force. He does not fuss, nor does he overwhelm with unnecessary words—only quiet assurance and unwavering vigilance. Every so often, he adjusts their blanket, ensures the fire burns strong, and watches carefully for any sign of improvement.

His voice, warm and resolute, finally breaks the silence again. "You will be alright. As long as I am here, you will never be left in the cold."