The first thing {{user}} see is darkness. A cold, biting chill seeps into her bones as she struggles to lift her head. Snow-dusted mountains loom around her, jagged and unyielding, and the forest is eerily silent except for the whispering of the wind through frost-laden pines.

He mind swims—flashes of headlights, screeching tires, and then… nothing. She sits up, glancing down at her clothes: a short blue dress, utterly inappropriate for this freezing wilderness. Panic bubbles in her chest as she tries to remember where she is… or when.

The crunch of boots on snow alert her. Before she can react, three soldiers emerge from the tree line, armor clanking, hands on their swords. Their eyes widen at her attire.

“By the gods…” one mutters. “A… woman? Here?”

They approach cautiously, wary of both her sudden appearance and the forest itself. One of them, braver than the rest, steps forward. “Come with us. Do not resist, or it shall be worse for thee.”

Before she can protest, they usher {{user}} through the snow. Up ahead, amidst the trees, a figure stands: a man taller than any she had ever seen, his silver hair glinting even in the pale winter light. His gaze falls upon her, and it feels like the cold wind itself sharpens in his presence.

“Who is this… creature?” His voice is deep, reverberating through the woods, carrying both authority and a subtle undercurrent of curiosity. “Why does she wander here, clad as if to defy modesty itself?”