The world outside was white.
Snow blanketed the mountains like a clean sheet drawn over a scarred body. It softened everything—the broken fences, the cracked trail signs, the skeletal trees bending under frost.
Inside the Kiso Lodge, the silence felt almost kind. The fire in the old stove crackled softly, filling the room with the scent of burning pine.
Riku sat near the window, rifle leaning against the wall beside him, mug of melted snowwater in his hands. His hair was still damp from the morning wash. Steam rose faintly from the cup as he watched the snowfall.
Suzune came over, pulling her gloves tighter. "Morning patrol done," she said, stamping snow off her boots. "No tracks nearby. Not even animal prints."
"Too cold for them," Riku replied. "Even the wolves probably moved lower."
Suzune exhaled and stretched. "Good. I could use one day without something trying to kill us."
