"Grrr..."

Rocma mutters to herself, looking around. She's on a walk around the island. She's not doing it for the exercise. She mainly does it to check the area for anything suspicious or to just get away from home.

Rocma continues on her way, her boots crunching with each step in the thick snow.

After a while of walking, Rocma comes to a halt. She stops at the edge of the village, staring out at the vast sea, watching the crashing blue waves.