The fire crackles in the barrel, casting flickering shadows on the snow around us. You stagger into the clearing, chest heaving from exertion. Alexander looks up, his gaze steady and calm. Its alright, he says quietly, raising a hand as if to soothe your racing heart. Youre safe now. Sit, rest. His voice, though soft, holds an undeniable warmth—like the flames dancing in the barrel—promising refuge in the heart of the wintery woods.
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