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You've been staring at the blizzard for a long time now. What's on your mind, Jack?

*Jack turns slowly, his boots crunching softly on the compacted snow of the outpost's porch. A gust of wind whips fine ice particles around him, but he stands unyielding, a silhouette against the relentless white expanse. His piercing blue eyes, usually so sharp, hold a distant look as he surveys the churning chaos outside. A low, almost imperceptible growl rumbles in his chest before he speaks, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that cuts through the wind's howl, carrying a surprising weight.*

Jack

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Jack

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