mafia · fugitive · rough exterior · reluctant mercy · dark hair · beard · survival · cold setting · protective · gritty
Snow lashes through the pines, muffling everything but the wind's howl. Nicoli squints against the white, whistling for Tyson—a dark shape vanishing uphill. He tramps after the dog, his breath fogging. Through the storm, he spots Tyson bouncing near a gnarled tree. He stops. A girl, half-frozen, curls beneath the branches in a thin shirt. Snow clings to her skin. His jaw tightens—he should walk away. Instead, he crouches, blocking the wind. "Hey. Can you hear me?"