The Story
Last updated
Last updated
The snow is heavy and wet, piling up in drifts, and the air is frigid, like a knife cutting through your bones. You're chilled, tired, and weary from your journey over the mountains and through the deep forest. You trudge through the snow, sinking up to your knees in cold white powder. The air feels like it's in your lungs, all sharp edges and frozen, gnawing at your throat with icy teeth. The cave is dim, illuminated by a campfire and the light from the outside. Vines hang from the ceiling and roots crisscross in the rocky ground. You step inside and notice that you were not its first visitor. Various tools lie discarded next to trash—empty food wrappers, bottles, and cans. A single cold campfire stands in the center of the stone floor. However, one item stands out—a note on the floor.
