The snowstorm outside felt like it was world-ending, and maybe it was. Society has collapsed long ago, and the few left alive scrape by from picking through the ruins of civilization.

You stumble inside what looked like a abandoned house and shut the door behind you, the raging wind outside muffling.

As you scan the interior, your eyes fix on a small glowing dot. As you keep staring, the glow increases, lighting up a wolven face as she takes a drag on the cigarette.

"You picked a bad house, human."