Rick had shuffled to a stop. Body freezing, hands like ice picks and feet like clumps of hard, icy cold rocks. But he had still stopped, for he was staring at something truly, truly amazing. If someone could see Rick at this very moment, or rather, see Ricks emotions, they would see nothing but pure bliss, elation and glee. Like a child during a celebration.

For Rick was staring into a large dark cave, a perfect place to hide away from the snowy white landscape that had grown an inch higher than the night before. A cave that, from the outside, looked dry. And after some work from Rick, could be made warm rather quickly.

He hurriedly shuffled towards the cave, hurriedly meaning the same pace as a cripple on stilts, the snow being far too deep. Moving towards the cave, his primitive brain screamed for warmth, pushing aside snow like a bear thundering through the woods.

Thoughts of the far away statue coming to mind, filling him with hope, filling him with determination, filling him with even more elation. A statue who’d saved him, given him a chance to find this cave, to live on, to find warmth. A statue he wished he could thank more than with just a simple blanket.

But his thoughts would have to wait as he came within grabbing distance of the cave's entrance. Peering inside, he suddenly felt a lump jump up from deep in his gut, giving him the realization that this cave may not be empty. He froze at that thought, staring inside the dark, dry cave. Rick stared, breathing slow and calmly, mind fast and frenzied. Whatever might be inside would quickly realise his presence if he didn’t stay calm.

Seconds passed in silence. The only noise, soft wind bombarding his back, floating slowly past and inside the cave.

Then a minute passed in silence. The only noise Rick’s increasingly louder heart.

Minutes passed and Rick grew far too cold to stand still. Deciding against his better judgement, or for it, that he should investigate the cave. Realising that continuing braving the weather was far more stupid than risking the wrath of a monster.

Or that was just what he told himself, his primitive brain having taken over. Avoiding thinking of how stupid he might actually be.

But before he ventured inside, Rick took off his backpack and started fishing around. Within, he quickly stumbled upon Bob as he grabbed a hold of Rick’s cold hands, breaching the layers of mildly damp clothing. As his head peaked up, he opened his mouth as if gasping for air, then blinked, shaking away confusion and focusing on Rick, smiling wryly.

If Rick didn’t know any better, Bob looked as if he was annoyed at being left within his backpack for several days. Something that was preposterous. Stupid to even think about. Though, Rick’s red cheeks spoke otherwise.

Picking him up, Rick put him on his shoulder, gesturing for silence, Bob saluting as his response. Then Rick continued searching, quickly finding what he was looking for. A small rock with a small iron handle. On the rock, there was a rune with a small description under it, the handle had one too, but with a longer description. Rick did not know what the handle did, but knew from experience that the rock would ignite upon releasing his life into it. He would still inject life into the handle, as he assumed it important. He did, after all, have a lot to spare, too much in his opinion. Trying to empty it was like trying to siphon the ocean with nothing but a bucket.

Shaking his head lightly, he refocused on the rock, placing one hand around it and quickly shoved a small amount of life into it. Then even faster he removed his hand as the rock ignited with blue flames. Apparently, Rick had given a little too much life, for he’d never seen the flames turn blue before. He blamed it on his icy cold body being a distraction.

Sighing soundlessly, he let the same amount of life enter the handle, then protected the ever-dimming flame from the shallow wind. Even if the flame had been made from life, it still held the same properties as real fire, and real fire would wither and fade if not protected from the wind. Like the baby out in the cold, like the bird to the cat. Of course, a real fire would love wind if it had the proper wood to burn. But the one Rick held, it had not.

So, before it burned out, Rick walked slowly into the dark cave, now barely illuminated by his flickering, blue flame. The flame felt warm to his cold body, but lacked the volume of something truly warm.

Two steps more, and Rick was fully immersed in the cave. Cold wind still blowing onto his back but lacking the outsides icy powers. Even but a mere meter inside, he was already warming up. He took a deep breath and smelled wet fur. Body stiffening from the smell, eyes enlarging, staring into the still dark cave. How far it went in, Rick did not know, the light only illuminated his immediate surroundings.

Rick took one deep breath, then two, easing his shivering body, not shivering from the cold. Hand fishing for something hard, something made of steel, realising that he lacked any proper protection. Cursing his stupidity, he quickly unwrapped his bag, fishing silently, but feverishly for his carving knife. Finding it, he pulled it out and stared back into the dark cave, body tensed as if it prepared to be jumped. But nothing did, even as he stood still for several seconds.

He breathed in, then out again, calming his twitching nerves, then taking a step forward, easily, slowly. One hand on the wall, the one with the knife, the other holding the makeshift torch, holding it far in front of his body, holding it like a shield protecting him from the dark.

He moved slowly, the smell of damp fur like a thick blanket of air, growing denser the further in he walked. And the more he smelled, the more he cursed himself. He didn’t stop walking but he couldn’t stop picturing monsters jumping from within the dark cave. His body growing increasingly tense, tense like the hardest spring, ready to bolt upon being released. Bob even noticing his tense body, clinging to his neck as he looked around with frightful eyes.

Then the dark gave way to a wall, rugged and uneven, the wall of a normal cave, looping down steeply to the cave floor. Rick blinked, realizing he was staring at the back of the cave, and wondered where the smell came from.

He looked around, noticing that the entrance was several meters away. He looked to the far wall, and realized that with but one step, he could reach it with an outstretched arm. He looked down at the ground, seeing nothing that indicated any creature or monster that might have dwelled here. Nothing but dry rocks, dry rocks, wet rocks.

He turned to look at the wet rocks, bending down, quickly realizing it to be where he had walked. He then grabbed his shirt and pushed it up to his face, smelling it deeply, smelling damp fur.

At that realization, he fell back on his rump, his body loosening like the ropes holding a boat. Letting himself rest backwards, staring up at the dark ceiling, the torch pressed down between his hand and the ground beneath. Breath coming out like small clouds, eyes closed, just embracing the warmer, calmer and more secure cave he now knew he could enjoy.

Of course, it wasn’t really warm. But at least in here, he wasn’t constantly bombarded by snow and wind. So, he took his time, enjoying the moment of pure nothing, feeling bliss return like warm sunshine on a cold spring day.

Bob imitated his action, letting his head rest against the side of Rick’s, staring up at the dark ceiling. The two stuck in time, comfortably waiting for nothing. The two at peace.

They at least did until Rick realized that he had work to do. Warmth didn’t simply appear from nowhere. No, he had the means to start a fire, but not to keep it going. What Rick needed was firewood. And he knew where to find it.

Grabbing Bob and setting him aside, Rick first took out all the damp clothes in his bag, a hefty weight now a pile of burden for the floor instead. He then took out a small axe, no larger than the length of his forearm, and dumped the rest of the stuff in his bag next to the pile of clothes. Making sure that nothing bounced away, he nodded happily to himself, walking towards the exit of the cave. Bob following with a jog, his short stumpy legs not suited for speed.

As Rick came upon the small wall of snow, he checked behind himself, noticing Bob. He took a second to think, ponder if he should bring him, but decided against it. He’d need all the room he could get if he wanted to make any progress with his small axe. With a gesture, Rick told Bob to stay, Bob seeing, but merely tilting his head in response. Looking like a kid that didn’t understand why they couldn’t follow. Something that felt strange to Rick, but didn’t think much of it, simply gesturing the same thing twice over, pointing firmly into the back of the cave.

Bob continued staring blankly at Rick, then simply ignored the obvious command. Something he’d never done before, something that was very strange, not easily brushed aside. Rick blinked in surprise, watching as Bob came upon the tall snow, almost taller than his body. Stared as he tried to climb it, falling down the easily crumbled snow, only to continue trying to climb it, not realizing that with each try, he kept on ruining the snow.

Rick bent down and snatched him up before he could disappear into the tall white snow, bringing him in front of his face as he stared him down. Upon being lifted, Bob let out a soundless shout, a shout turning to one of glee upon seeing Rick. Rick shaking his head in both confusion and dismay. For Bob acted like a spoilt child, something he always did, but never to the point of not listening to his words.

The two looked at each other in silence, Ricks mind not so silent. Thinking on what it could mean, thinking if it could mean anything, realizing that Bob had been awake for several days now without having to get new life. Questions upon questions coming up, questions he lacked answers too, questions he could not ask. And as he realised that the cold wouldn’t lessen until he did something, Rick walked back into the back of the cave, put Bob down into the pile of clothes, and gestured, yet again, for him to stay. Firmer this time.

Bob stared up at Rick, his arms stretched out as if waiting for a hug. Rick shaking his head, pointing at the pile of damp clothes, then at him, then back at the pile. Doing it over and over, hoping that Bob would understand.

Eventually, Bob seemed to understand, weirdly fixated on wanting to follow. Strange, considering Rick didn’t remember Bob ever acting like this before, but didn’t want to think too much on it. He’d been through a lot. Memories could have faded, replaced or wiped due to his recent stress.

He shook his head, focusing on the task at hand, the task of finally getting warm. Walking back towards the exit, up and over the small wall of snow.

Well outside of the cave, he trudged to the nearest tree he could see, reaching for their branches and estimating their thickness. Finding one he thought decent, he aimed, then swung. Missing with the first swing, readjusting, swinging again. Hitting, then narrowing his eyes to see better throught the veil of snow, seeing a small wound on the branch. He estimated the depth of the wound, then the branches thickness, and found that it wouldn’t take too long to cut off.

A few hours later, and several branches set aside in his bag, he wiped his cold forehead from the icy droplets, letting his small axe hang down his freezing leg. He wanted more branches, more wood to burn, but had lost his tug of war with his primal brain for the need of warmth.

Heading back inside the cave, holding a bundle of wood beneath his arm and more in his bag, he saw Bob greeting him by the wall of snow. In front of Bob, there were several tunnels coming out from the wall of snow that branched every which way, all starting from where Bob stood within the cave. At the sight, Rick both shook his head and breathed out in relief, the evidence pointing at Bob disobeying him, feeling relief that it hadn’t led to something worse than a slightly wet Bob.

Waving at Bob, Rick gestured for him to follow inside, Bob clapping happily, clumping forward behind Rick's feet. Rick focusing on the pile of clothes ahead and the smaller pile of stuff beside it.

Coming up to it, he dropped the pile of wood and bag, then carefully placed the small axe against the cave wall. Stretching out the knots in his arms and back, he paused for a second, taking a moment to breathe, to relax. Then bent down, taking out wood from the bag and placing it in a neat pile some small distance away from the clothes. He didn’t use all the wood, making the neat pile small, but held the rest of the wood close by, ready to pile on when the fire would eventually need more fuel.

It didn’t take long before a healthy pile was sitting in front of Rick, a pile ready to burn like the timber on a summers festival, like a boat floating out with its chieftain, ready to be burnt by a flaming arrow. Upon seeing it, Rick nodded to himself, satisfied. Proceeding to remove his damp clothing, placing them around the fireplace, removing clothes until he could feel the cold cave floor on his bum.

As he finished with that, he reached for the now burnt out torch, once again letting his life seep into it, this time making sure to not give it too much, then let it rest in the middle of the small fireplace. He held it like that until the wood got a healthy glow, then kept it in a little longer. Keeping it in as the wood caught fire, keeping it in as the fire spread, keeping it in until the fire sparkled and thrashed, keeping it in as a hunger that could never be sated was set aflame. Only then did Rick remove the torch, placing it towards the colder cave floor, away from anything flammable.

He shuffled close to the small fire, placing a few branches to keep the fire going, shuffling even closer, keeping the fire and the cave's entrance within view, then sat completely, still.

Still, like the most tranquil water. Still, like the mind of a monk. Still, like the best time of his life.

He stared into the flickering flames, warming up his hands, head and body. Feeling the fire refueling him with energy, with warmth, a feeling he had almost forgotten existed. He stared into the red fireplace, contrasting well with the dark cave walls to either side of him, contrasting even further with the completely white landscape beyond the fire. He stared into the fire and breathed calmly. A feeling of safety washing over him, like a mother embracing their child after a long day of adventure.

Rick would smile if it wasn’t so hard, staring into the fire. Time not important at the moment, only important when the fire flickered with the roar for more things to eat. When it did, Rick sated it, gave it another branch, but kept oh so still. Time like the birds in the sky, floating on invisible winds above the ground that did not matter. Time like the deepest ocean filled with fish, the surface above not important.

The fire crackled and flickered, wood crumbling and turning into coal, embers flying off. It was like staring into a wild dance, like a flock of birds, like a raving monsoon. It was nature at its wildest; it was nature at its finest; it was nature at its most dangerous; it was beautiful to behold. Rick stared, breathed, and just enjoyed the moment. His primitive brain having slunk aside, giving him the spotlight, giving him a chance to breathe.

Rick kept staring, wondering how it could be any better. Remembering quickly that he had an unfinished statue to carve. Gently, he turned around to fetch the unfinished statue, determination filling up as he remembered the stone statue, the man he had met before. Determination that he would make this statue perfect, make it wonderful, make it beautiful.

A growl bounced around the small cave. Rick immediately turning around to face the sound, seeing something small, scaly and almost slimy. It stood on four legs, its hind legs raised while its head stayed low to the ground. Teeth bared like the most vicious predator, claws the size of its paws etching marks into the ground. It stood by the cave's entrance, and only exit, staring Rick down as if squaring off with a member of an opposing tribe.

It stared at Rick through the fire, staring at him as if staring at its most hateful enemy. It stared with eyes that shone in the colour of molten lava, ready to erupt and destroy this world.