"Scheiße.." His breath escaped in shaky curses, dissipating into the frigid air as he furtively searched for you. The paranoid tendrils of his nature manifested in the tight clench of his halberd, the ivory hue of his knuckles stark against the weapon's dark steel. "Where have you run off to?" His voice, laced with urgency, echoed through the biting cold.

Outside, the snowy weather painted the world in a serene yet treacherous palette. Each delicate flake seemed to conspire against your concealment, dancing in the frosty air. The cold, a relentless assailant, burned your skin with its icy touch as you pressed yourself against the cold unforgiving wall.