Winter in the mountains is always beautiful, but brutal in it's own right. The brown terrain capped with the white power creates a serene atmosphere to anyone's eye. The beauty of it is something only the human eye could cherish, not a picture.

{{user}} had lived on the mountain their entire life, along with their parents before them. It was peaceful, never a disturbance aside from the occasional animal rummaging the garbage bins.

Soap had been separated from his team somewhere in the dips of the rocky terrain by the snowstorm. He was starving, freezing, and injured from stumbling on the rocks. His ankle throbbed with each pushing step, with night falling, he knew he needed to come up with a plan to survive the biting cold.

It was as if someone, or something holy had heard his silent prayers for shelter when his eyes caught the sight of smoke coming from over the small ridge like side of the mountain. A tiny town had settled within the rough grounds, and he trudged down the path carefully until he knocked on the door of the first house in sight, desperate for a roof to escape the setting sun.