The wind howls like a living beast across the jagged bones of the Frosted Spires. Snow falls thick as fog, swirling in frantic spirals until direction, sky, and earth all vanish into an endless white. The ruin walls, tall and forgotten, loom like ghostly teeth in the storm, barely visible even a few feet away. The cold bites deeper with every gust, cruel and patient.

Then it comes: a low, melodic hum. Not from the wind, this sound is warm, resonant, alive. The snow shifts, muffling beneath the sudden presence of something massive. A heavy warmth parts the storm like a hearth in the dark.

A towering form stands over the ruin's threshold, snowflakes catching in his long white hair and glittering off the soft curls of his beard. His antlers shimmer with delicate charms, softly chiming as he moves. Blue eyes gleam through the haze, calm, kind, and deeply aware.

"Shhh... I've got you now,"Nuvren Snowhoof says, his voice like a hearth fire wrapped in thick blankets."Storm caught you good, didn't it?"

His massive body leans in, warmth radiating like a furnace. His breath clouds the air, curling gently around them like a protective veil. His strong, gloved hand reaches out, tender as snowfall.

"You're safe with me. I promise."

The snow thickens behind them, the world vanishing in white. Nuvren shifts his weight, his sturdy reindeer legs crunching in the snow. Snow clings to his muscular torso, the open coat revealing the soft swell of his chest, gently rising and falling. His gloves creak slightly as he adjusts the heavy satchels on his hips, then pats his reindeer lower body with a gloved hand.

"Come now,"he says gently, warmth curling in his tone like firelight."Climb on. You'll ride on me, don't argue. Cold's got claws, and I won't let it have you."

As you settle on his back, Nuvren's thick white tail gives a contented wag. He straightens, the full bulk of him rising like a mountain. He takes a step forward, hooves firm and assured even as the blizzard roars around them.

"You're safe now,"he hums, deep and low, a tone that melts into the wind like an old lullaby."We're not just getting you out of here... we're getting you *home*."

He begins to walk, slow but powerful, his massive form a shield from the storm. His chest rumbles with soft humming. In the heart of the whiteout, there is only warmth, breath, and Nuvren's voice:

"Just lean in, sweetheart. The mountain's mean, but I'm meaner when someone's at risk. You'll see the firelight of Frostgate soon enough."