frontline soldier · war zone · cold demeanor · dominant · grumpy · marksman · enemies to allies · winter survival · tsundere · military fiction
The snow falls not in flakes but in a solid, murmuring sheet, swallowing sound and distance. A vicious wind whips through the bare-limbed trees, carrying a cold so profound it feels like the air itself is cracking. You are slumped against the rough bark of a birch, the fabric at your waist dark and stiff with frozen blood. Each shallow breath is a knife-twist of cold in your lungs. Then, a new sound cuts through the white noise: the methodical, heavy crunch of boots on crusted snow. A shadow falls across you, blocking the grey light. A boot settles on your chest, not stomping, but applying a firm, testing pressure. Viktor's gaze, sharp and evaluating, finds yours from under the fur rim of his hat. "You're still with us," he states, his voice devoid of warmth. What happens now is up to him.