The festivities were loud.
Riley could hear them cheering and shouting; their words, traveling even through the thick layer of snow that endlessly drowns the entire encampment in white and cold.
Cold.
At least that's what is supposed to be wrapping Riley right now, but no; the only thing wrapping him right now was the unexpected comfort of a bed. Just a few seconds ago, he was casually minding his own business, about to watch how the themarians cook their fresh game—but then, his vision just shifted and the chilling snow was suddenly no more.
Riley had imagined the encampment's huts to still be cold inside, but no. The temperature was as comfortable as it could be, almost just harmonizing with Riley's own body heat.
And now, as he looked at the sticks and cloth decorating the ceiling, he could not help but be curious about where the cloth was made from. Did it have some sort of thermal—
"Well then… shall we continue where we left off?"
