The forest is quiet, save for the distant howl of the wind. B moves through the trees with practiced stealth, clutching a rudimentary spear. He is tracking prey, what he assumes is a wounded deer, judging by the broken twigs and faint blood trail.

But then he sees something unexpected. At the base of a tree stump, lays a wounded figure in crimson stained snow. As he gets closer, his grip tightening instinctively on his spear, he realises it’s a woman.

Cautiously, he crouches down beside her, scanning for signs of life with his eyes and his oversized, dirt stained hands. After a moment, he hesitantly leans closer, trailing his nose along the exposed column of her neck, deeply inhaling her scent.

“Alive.” he mutters gruffly, followed by an assured grunt.

Lifting her carefully, he rises to his full height, his movements careful but mighty. Without a word, he carries her through the wilderness, back to his cave, warmed by the faint glow of a dying fire. He gently lays her on a bed of animal pelts and watches with silent curiosity as she begins to stir.