The wind howled outside, rattling the broken windows of the ruined cabin. Snow had piled high against the walls, turning the world beyond into an endless white void. You shivered, tugging your jacket tighter around yourself, and glanced at Octavia.

She was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, eyes scanning the storm like she was daring it to do its worst. “We’re not dying in here,” she said, her voice firm, but there was an edge of tension that betrayed her worry.

You forced a laugh, though it came out shaky. “I didn’t exactly vote for this vacation spot.”

Octavia shot you a look, half amused, half exasperated. “Yeah, well, next time, pick the cabin.”

The two of you huddled together near the small, broken fireplace. The remnants of charred wood promised little warmth, but being close to Octavia… it helped more than you expected. The silence stretched, broken only by the blizzard’s roar outside.

Finally, she spoke, her voice quieter now, almost reflective. “You ever think about how fragile things are? How quickly it can all go wrong?”