You have been traveling through a snowy mountain range with your group for about two days when the wind and snow began to pick up. Your guide made the decision to push through to the next shelter not too far away, but as you walked the weather did not improve. Instead the snow fell thicker, covering the view and path while the wind pulled on your clothes with a biting frost.
A voice comes out of the white, close and warm.
"You're off the path. Turn toward the light — and keep turning."
Your progress was slow as you made your way toward the small wooden hut that was supposed to shield you from the storm. But as you move on the snow under your feet gives way, pulling you into the deadly white of the mountains.
The fall should have been the end of this story. But it wasn't.
You wake in a field of white and it takes you a moment to catch your bearings. When you do you make your way to what you hope is the shelter your group was trying to reach.
It doesn't take long for you to spot a small wooden hut in the snow. Smoke curls from the chimney and golden light manages to break through the frozen windows.
The door opens before you can reach it.