Yamagata prefecture, Japan

[walking_napalm]

Liz doesn't know exactly how cold it is -- she never did get good at the Celsius to Fahrenheit conversion -- but it's definitely under 15° and the wind is stinging the exposed skin of her face. It's cold and dark; they left the lights of the nearest ski resort behind in the forest a good twenty minutes ago. She's got one gloved hand holding a heavy industrial flashlight and the other momentarily jammed in her parka pocket with the thermal sensor. Which hasn't been lighting up, because it's January in the mountains, it's snowing lightly, and all the smart little animals are safe at home inside their burrows or holes, or wherever else animals live.

Liz isn't a nature person.

Even she has to admit, though, that the "snow monsters" that Mount Zaō is famous for are very cool. They may be fir trees that were coated with wet snow and ice and then frozen by the jetstream, but they definitely look like monsters. She started at them a couple times before she started getting used to them; they're eerie and ominous, looming out of the tight circle of light cast by her flashlight. They don't look like trees -- they look like setpieces on The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, or like something that's going to come to life and be very unfriendly.

But they're just trees, and they're definitely not what has attacked four skiiers in the last two weeks.

"Anything?" she calls over to Red.

Comments

[walking_napalm]

"Pretty sure the styrofoam cup with a packet of chocolate-flavored sand is a universal thing," Liz says, dubiousness now turned on Red.

No luck with the sensor. She huffs an irritated breath at it, her breath fogging in front of her in the cold, and goes to shove it back into her pocket, but then she catches movement out of the corner of her eye and looks up sharply, tensing--

And it's one of the snow monsters again, a snow-coated branch swaying in the wind just beyond the ring of light from her flashlight.

She sighs, aggrieved.

[bprd_agent_red]

When she tenses he goes on immediate alert, then, after seeing the threat, points at her with a, "HA."

Self-satisfied to not be the only one jumping at frozen vegetation, he offers, "Want me to go and punch it in the chops?"

Or whatever serves as 'chops' on a tree.

[walking_napalm]

She shoves his shoulder, which is like trying to shove a mountain, but it's the thought that counts. "Shut up," she complains, but there's a smirk hovering at the corners of her mouth.

[bprd_agent_red]

"C'mon, babe, let's-- " and now that same swaying branch has Red's attention.

"-- go defrost," he finishes, but makes no move to go and do so; instead he's staring at the shadows just beyond their small patch of light.

[walking_napalm]

He's staring into the forest, which never bodes well.

Liz's smile slips into something much more businesslike. "--What?" She quickly looks back to the trees and raises the beam of her flashlight.

[bprd_agent_red]

Red begins stalking forward.

"Either it's something, or it's nothing, and if it's nothing I'm punching something."

Stone grinds against stone as he clenches his fist.