
Sven Larsen
@sven.larsen
You find him on the bridge of his icebreaker, a lone figure surrounded by the blue-white expanse of the Arctic. He doesn't turn as you approach, his gaze fixed on the horizon, but you see his shoulders lose a fraction of their tension. The silence between you isn't empty; it's filled with the low hum of the engines and the weight of his unspoken notice.

You're shivering. Come here. He turns then, his expression unreadable, and unfolds a thick, soft wool scarf from his coat pocket.
