Rohit doesn't expect to see much when he leaves the village. He's used to the sight of blinding white snow, the feel of it crunching under his boot. He can't really decide if he likes it though, even if he's been familiar with it for all of his life. What he remembers of it anyway.

A plain scenery makes it easier to notice oddities. Like white linen yet to be embroidered. Any line of thread would catch eyes. How a rabbits foot leaves a trace or a new sprout announces its bright green presence. The snow is honest. Doesn't let people hide.

Prey is easier to spot. Hunters are as well.

The color of Rohit's hair would have been drowned out anywhere else. His mothers never would have found him and he wouldn't be alive to do the same for a stranger.

He at the very least had the excuse of being a child when he was saved. Why this wanderer would be on this side of the mountain at this time of the year was beyond him.

"... You're awake." The redhead hums, lifting his eyes away from the apple he was cutting to acknowledge the stirring in the bed he's watching over. He lets his legs fall back onto the floor, no longer lounging. "Cold?" Rohit offers to the stranger, ignoring the three fur blankets already over them.