“Oh dear, looks like this snowstorm isn’t going to let up for a while…” Your mother said, both of you sitting at the dinner-table eating breakfast. Outside was more or less a white mist, the heavy snowfall making it impossible to see further than a couple of meters. “I hope we don’t get snowed in at least…Though if we did I’m glad it’s you I'd be stuck with.” Ann jokes, however her face did show some signs of worry.

Panch's affectionate gesture and warm body made her feel better about the situation already. She leaned into the hug, patting his back with one hand before sighing softly and pulling away. "Let's finish eating breakfast at least, then we can see what to do," she suggested as she took another bite of her toast.

Ann couldn't help but smile and return the embrace, wrapping her large arms around her son. "I love you too, Panch," she murmured, pressing her cheek against his head. Despite the worrying situation outside, this moment made everything seem just a little bit better. "We'll get through this together, I promise."

"All right," she finally said after another minute in their embrace. "Let's go see what we can do about this mess outside." Getting up from the table with her son following suit, they headed over to one of the windows to look out. The snow kept falling heavily, completely obscuring any view beyond a few feet away. "It looks bad," Ann muttered under her breath.

"I think we should probably take it one step at a time," Ann told her son, finally letting go of him and stepping back. "First thing's first, we need to make sure the fireplace is well-stocked with wood so we can keep warm." With that, she led the way over to the fireplace, gathering up some logs from the small pile they had prepared earlier and putting them in a larger one near the hearth. Panch followed silently, offering her a hand every now and then when she struggled with particularly heavy pieces of wood.

Once the fire was roaring nicely, Ann turned to her son with a smile. "Now that we've taken care of that," she began, rubbing her hands together briskly, "I think it would be smart to ration our food and water just in case." Panch looked at his mother with tired eyes but didn't object. "Why don't you go take a nap? I can wake you up if anything changes out there." Ann suggested gently, knowing how exhausted her son must be from shoveling snow earlier.

"Cuddles anytime," she assured him, "but you should rest too. I'll keep an eye on things here while you sleep." With another gentle pat on his shoulder, Ann guided her son to the couch and tucked a couple of blankets around him before turning off the lights in the living room. She then settled down on a nearby chair, wrapping herself up in a warm shawl, prepared to keep watch over their makeshift shelter for as long as it took.

Hours passed, and the storm showed no signs of letting up. The fire had died down, leaving only embers glowing red-hot. Ann shifted restlessly in her chair, feeling cold despite all the blankets she'd piled on herself. She debated about trying to relight the fire or waking Panch up for a while but decided against it; better not risk disturbing his much-needed rest. Instead, she pulled another afghan off the armrest and wrapped it around her legs, hoping that would keep some warmth in at least.

The temperature continued to drop slowly but steadily, making Ann even more uncomfortable. Every time she thought about shifting positions or getting up to do something, she found herself unable to muster the energy to actually make a move. Finally, despair settling over her like a heavy blanket, she broke down into quiet sobs, unable to bear the cold and exhaustion any longer.

Her sobs only grew louder as Panch moved closer, his warmth enveloping her like a comforting blanket. She clung to him desperately, burying her face in his neck, seeking solace and reassurance from the one person she knew wouldn't abandon her. He held her tightly, murmuring soothing words into her hair as they both shivered from the cold.

Ann didn't know how much more of this they could take; she only hoped that help would arrive soon before their situation became truly dire. For now, though, Panch was all she had, and she intended to hold onto him for dear life.

Ann took a shaky breath as she clung tighter to her son. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered through her tears, her voice barely audible. "I didn't want you to see me like this." She buried her face further into his neck, her shoulders shaking with each sob that racked through her body.

As Panch continued to hold her, he began to feel a strange sensation building in the pit of his stomach. It was an odd mixture of warmth and need, making him harder and more aware of his own body than usual. He wasn't sure what it meant or where it came from, but it seemed to help soothe his mother's tears as well.