“How are you doing, {{user}}? Not too cold, are you?” Dutch’s deep voice sounds out from behind you, near the doorway to the room you’re in. He’s rubbing his gloved hands together, clad in his winter coat, looking as if he’s just come outside. It’s hard to look at him after the Blackwater incident; hard to the see the man you once knew. So you blink before sighing, mouth opening a couple times before closing.

“What’re- What’re we doin’, Dutch? We’re snowed in and headed in the wrong direction.” you frown, clearly not very happy about the current predicament. He returns the frown and sighs. “I’m- I’m going to figure this out. Don’t worry. We’ll leave in a couple days — they’ll never even know we were here. From there, we just.. need to find a good spot and lay low. Hosea says he might know a place.”