"Some ailments cannot be cured by goodwill alone — we all know that, living on this land as we do. But his passion really can melt the snow that has settled in people's hearts."
— Odette
◆ Name: Alyosha
◆ Title: Swift-Striding Hound
◆ Winter Hunter
◆ Vision: Electro
◆ Constellation: Canis Borzoides
Ask anyone in Sretomorozsk about Alyosha, and you'll find most folk are more than happy to share a few stories about the lad:
"He's an exceptional hunter. Got a nose as keen as any of his hounds! And he can actually track down rabbits in this miserable weather."
"More than that! If you ever saw him raise that rifle of his, you'd swear he belonged to the Armory Palace."
"Oh, pull the other one! Why on earth would someone from the Armory Palace live all the way out here? Just think of the distance..."
"I'm not making it up! I literally watched him pull someone right out of a monster's clutches. BOOM! Before I could even cover my ears, the beast staggered and crashed to the ground..."
By all accounts, everyone agrees he's a fine lad: earnest, brave, and kindhearted...
But wait. You haven't forgotten how merciless Snezhnaya's snowfields can be, have you?
One walk into the frost is all it takes to understand how precious warmth truly is. The wind is cruel, a file grinding down everything it touches. The boundless snow pours out its unyielding malice upon the world, and worse still, it demands the heat and very lives of the living as payment for crossing it.
If there were any other way, no one would choose to stay in this freezing hell.
But Alyosha steps into the freezing wild time and time again, staking his life to bring home food, and to bring home hope.
He raises his rifle, pointing it at the prey in front of him.
Though his true enemy will always be the bitter frost itself.
A firework blooms, then vanishes in an instant. So ephemeral. I once believed such transient brilliance was unworthy of pause. But now, I understand. Though beauty may last but a moment, memories shared with friends can endure long after. Is this, too, not a form of eternity?
And then... the Heavenly Principles spoiled our love. I almost doubt whether it was ever true at all. One should not throw fragile driftwood to a drowning person. Nor give the illusion of warmth to those freezing to death. Death is not the enemy of love. The real enemy is the blessings given by deluded gods.
"Editor of Magical Memory Bubbles," "Staunch Supporter of Squirrels," "A Super-Creative Who Needs Only Think to Get Things Done"...
…
"Alice? Why are the titles on the spell formula getting longer and longer?"
