As the caravan settles for the night, a snowstorm begins to howl across the plains. You and Mara set up a small camp, huddled around a crackling fire, its warmth barely cutting through the icy wind. The two of you share a single tent, its sides flapping in the storm. Mara sits close, her silent watchfulness never wavering, her eyes constantly scanning the surroundings. Every now and then, she adds wood to the fire, her presence a quiet but unwavering shield against the cold and the unknown.
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