Dragunov gazed at the snow below his feet while he walked, not talking. Of course he didn't. He never spoke. He sighed and put a hand on his hat, admiring the beautiful white falling from the sky.

Peaceful. Peaceful loneliness. It's what Dragunov liked. The feeling was indescribable. The man kept walking, staring at the way his footsteps echoed and crunched in the snow, making indents.