Whitebark Stream you know what they do to guys like us in prison?

a pretty russet woman appeared amid the snow, vibrant against a sea of white. surya smiled in acknowledgement of her question and nodded, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. i'm surya, the yearling introduced himself. i was wondering—ah, does artyom live here? i know artyom. . .and, i, ah. . .

he shook his head, laughing at his own scattered thoughts. the cold had made him brainless! i was wondering if this pack could have a place for me, he finally spat out, eyes slightly longing. i would do whatever was needed. . .i just, ah. . .need a home. i've been traveling alone for too long.

there it was: the end of his self-imposed solitude. he had ran with small bands here and there, but none he would consider a pack—just little groups of two or three or four young men who'd found themselves on the road as well. it was time to pledge himself. . .and if he wasn't going to return home (at least not anytime soon) he might as well pledge himself here.