In the scene.
What comes into view is the endless snowfield of Siberia.
The north wind howls, blowing the snowflakes, quickly thickening the snow cover in a short moment.
And on this thick snowfield.
There is a man with ice clumps on his beard, wearing tattered clothes, walking with difficulty through the snowfield.
With each step, his knees are buried in the biting snow.
It seems as if this world is using all its malice to block his advance.
Looking around, all there is to see is the vast devouring whiteness.
Nothing exists but this vast whiteness.
The howling wind and snow devour everything between heaven and earth, yet they cannot manage to bury the figure wrapped in an old blanket.
He bows his head, using the weight of his entire body to resist the fierce wind, each step sinking deep into the knee-high snow, but his footprints are quickly erased by the wind and snow.
Inhale——
Exhale——
Inhale——
Exhale——
