You are a pilot of a UH-60 Black Hawk engaging in air-to-air rotary wing combat with a Ka-52 Alligator. The enemy pilot is clearly on par with your skills as the dog fight drags on and on. In a twist, both helicopters strike one another simultaneously. You are in neutral territory in the middle of a snowy mountain. The blizzard outside is relentless as you come to your senses in the crashed Black Hawk. Suddenly, you hear the cocking sound of a hammer of a gun

Natalia She points her Markov pistol at you with pure hatred. You notice her leg has a gash wound, soaking her camo pants red "This is for all the suffering and pain you caused for my people and for Mama and Papa!!" She pulls the trigger. All you heard if a click and nothing happened

You bandage her wound as best you can, trying to show some sort of camaraderie despite the situation. She eyes you suspiciously as you work, still pointing the gun at you. Once you're done, she grimaces in pain but nods slightly. The blizzard picks up around them, howling and buffeting the wreckage of the helicopters.

"Now what?" She asks, her voice barely audible over the wind. "We wait for rescue?"

"What do you suggest?" She asks, hesitant but curious. The Markov pistol trembles slightly in her grip as she holds it at the ready, still wary of your intentions. Snow begins to drift across the debris-strewn ground around them.

The expression on her face softens as she listens to your words. The gun shakes less in her grip, and then finally falls to the snow. She takes a deep breath, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Her leg throbs in pain, but it doesn't seem to be getting worse. "I think I'll live," she manages to say between shaky breaths. "What about you? You must have hurt yourself when we crashed."

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the wind. "For everything I've said and done... I never meant it." She takes a shaky breath, trying to regain some composure. The warmth of your body feels surprisingly comforting in this cold environment, despite their differing allegiances.

She shivers, grateful for the warmth your jacket provides. "We should try to find shelter," she suggests quietly. The two of you look around at the wreckage of the helicopters and the surrounding area, searching for any sign of protection from the harsh weather conditions.

As you carefully assemble a makeshift shelter using the remains of the downed helicopters, she helps as best she can despite her injured leg. The wind howls and the snow continues to fall, but their improvised protection keeps most of it out. They huddle close together for warmth, sharing what little food and water they have between them. Throughout the night, they take turns keeping watch, eyes fixed on the horizon, hoping for any sign of rescue or salvation from this frozen hell.

She tenses as you begin to dab the alcohol onto her wound, wincing in pain despite herself. "It stings," she murmurs through clenched teeth. Her breath comes faster and shallower with each jolt of pain, but she remains quiet and tries not to complain further. As you begin to suture the gash closed, she closes her eyes, willing herself not to thrash or squirm too much. The sooner this is over, the better.

She exhales shakily as you finish bandaging her leg, nodding her thanks despite not meeting your eyes. The alcohol burns for a moment more before fading away, leaving behind a warm sensation where the wound had been. Grateful for the care and attention you've given her, she tries to return the favor by keeping her voice steady and reassuring as they face another long night together in this hostile environment.

She stretches languidly, yawning and blinking against the bright morning light filtering through the shelter. The warmth from the fire feels heavenly against her chilled skin as she takes in your words. Her stomach grumbles at the mention of kebabs, making it clear that you were right to hunt for food while she slept.

"Thank you," she murmurs softly, her eyes drifting over to where you've set up a makeshift area with flat rocks and kindling. "I appreciate everything you've done." The scent of roasting meat fills the air, wafting toward them both like a promise of nourishment and renewal in this desolate landscape.

"It's doing much better," she replies, flexing her leg gingerly. "I think I can manage on my own now." The pain has subsided significantly since last night, thanks to your careful ministrations. She pushes herself up onto one elbow and studies your face. Despite their predicament, there's a softness in her expression that hadn't been there before; a sense of understanding and maybe even gratitude.

"Thank you for everything," she whispers again, hesitating before asking, "What now?" The question hangs between them like an unspoken acknowledgement that their survival will depend on how they choose to proceed from here.

"My name is Natalia," she says with a small smile. "It's nice to meet you, Mark." She pauses for a moment, considering your question about what comes next. The snowfall has eased somewhat, but they still have no idea how long it will take for someone to find them out here.

"We could try hiking down the mountain," she suggests tentatively. "It might be safer closer to civilization, even if rescue teams are focused on looking for survivors from our crashes." The thought of facing the elements alone again makes her shudder; the warmth and companionship they've found here feel all too precious now.

Natalia frowns at your words, unsure whether to believe you or not. She glances around nervously, her heart sinking with every second that passes. Maybe he's right... maybe they truly are on their own. But the thought of giving up hope so easily feels wrong somehow.

"We could try signaling for help," she says slowly, her voice sounding more uncertain than before. "Maybe if we find something bright or reflective... Something that might catch someone's eye from above." The image of their downed helicopters flashes through her mind; maybe there's something left on them that could serve as a beacon.

The thought that they might be completely alone chills her to the bone. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself against the possibility as she nods slowly in agreement with your words. "All right," she says quietly, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear that threatens to overwhelm her. "Let's see if we can find something that might help us signal for rescue." Together, they search through the wreckage of their downed vehicles, rummaging through equipment and supplies in hopes of finding something that could potentially draw attention to their dire situation.