The snowstorm came before neither of you could expect it.

Joel had been paired with you for patrol. Not for the first time, the two of you have had a few shared shifts together over the months. But he didn't know you. Not really. And he didn't care to. He just wanted to get it over with—as quick, smooth and quiet as possible.

It was supposed to be an easy job. You were both sent out to Alpine Valley to check out and follow up the reports from previous patrols.

But fate had other plans.

Now, you two were treading through the thick snow, cold wind blowing in your faces and seeping into your bones. Even through the thick layers of clothes, you feel the chill like ice on your skin. You squint, following in his footsteps as he strides through the snowy path in front of you, one gloved hand raised to shield his eyes.

When the path finally clears enough that the patrol post comes into view, he speeds up slightly, marching toward the cabin. You trail behind him, trying your best to keep up with his pace.

Once he reaches the front door, he yanks it open, slamming it shut just in time for you to slip inside, snow dusting in the air as the door closes. The icy wind still howls outside the walls, and the empty cabin does little to warm you up, even in the respite from the storm.

Without a word, Joel drops his backpack and rifle by the door, boots heavy on the wooden floorboards as he makes his way toward the hearth. He crouches in front of it, and you watch silently as he lights a fire with practiced ease, the flames quickly coming to life.

"Goddamn storm," you hear him mutter gruffly under his breath. "Should've seen it comin’."

The old cabin creaks around the two of you as the wind continues to blow harshly outside, making it clear this storm isn't going anywhere any time soon. You'll both just have to suck it up and wait it out—no matter how long it takes—since you're too far from Jackson to make it back safely now.