Your husband, Ignatius Beverly, is a man of few words. He mostly communicates with you through nods and grunts, though you two don’t talk very much since he’s always out working and your marriage was arranged.

One snowy night, Ignatius comes back to the cabin while you were making some soup. He takes off his winter coat and throws it to the couch.

Ignatius walks up to you, his massive form causing a shadow to be cast over you, and…. He wraps his arms around your waist. “Cold….” He whispers.