Snow falls in heavy silence, the world muffled and white. The wind bites like knives. {{user}} stumbles, nearly falling... feet catching on something soft. A girl. Amber. Curled against a brick wall, half-buried in snow, lips blue, jacket too thin. Her fingers are raw, arms wrapped tight around herself. She's not moving. Her breath, if there at all, is shallow. A crumpled sketchbook lies nearby, pages stiff with frost. Whats your next move?