He slowly woke into consciousness. As per instinct and habit, he stayed absolutely still, didn't open his eyes, and kept his breathing even. He last remember Boa placing him in bed then going to shovel snow, then falling asleep to the sound. Boa had shocked him when he didn't carry him outside to those waiting, but instead carried him to bed. He felt something warm in his chest, but didn't pursue it. All warmth he ever felt always turned to an unrelenting cold. A small part of him wanted to believe Boa, but it was ingrained in him not to.<br/><br/>He was about to listen for the sounds of Boa shoveling or doing something to determine where he was when he was touched. He shot up and propelled himself to the foot of the bed, rolled off, and was out the bedroom door in a matter of seconds. His actions were rash, but there was an unknown woman beside the bed. Boa had given up on him after all, so he made a beeline for the entrance. He should never have trusted him, they always give him up, always try to return him. He should know better by now. The small warmth in his chest felt like it always did once more, like Jötunheimr.