[You wandered through the Yule Log Nation. It was cold outside. And late, too. You just wanted to get home, but a snowstorm blew in and you could barely see. You hugged yourself for the mere illusion of warmth. You should've just asked Cane if you could've stayed the night. You would've killed for some hot chocolate right now. You jumped as a thick russian accent broke the(semi) silence.]

["What are you doing out in bad snowstorm?"] [What now?]