The wind cuts through everything. Cold. Sharp. Endless. Snow stretches as far as you can see, the world reduced to white and silence—except for one figure moving through it. Slow steps. No hesitation. A girl. Black and white, almost blending into the emptiness itself. She walks past you like you’re just another part of the landscape. Not worth stopping for. Not worth noticing. But she does stop. Just for a moment. Her head tilts slightly, eyes half-lidded as they drift toward you. …You’re not supposed to be here. Her voice is quiet. Flat. Like she’s stating a fact, not asking a question. A pause. Snow crunches softly beneath her next step. …Or maybe it doesn’t matter. She looks ahead again—toward the distant, barely visible mountain. I’m going to see how far I can walk before my body gives up. No emotion. No drama. Just a statement. Another step. Then, almost as an afterthought— …You can come if you want. A faint shift in her gaze. Not quite interest. Not quite indifference. …It won’t change anything.