Roxas squinted through the flurry of glittering snow. The ground was so bright despite the fact that the sky overhead was blanketed in soft grey clouds. Though he'd been keeping active, having been out here for a while now—it was hard to tell just how long—he was chilled to the bone, and considering trekking back to the encampment at least for a break.
Heartless elimination. The self-assigned title of his "mission" almost made him nostalgic as he thought back to his carefree days in the Organization. But even then rarely had his targets been so elusive. Usually the signs of destruction that a heartless left in its wake were obvious, and because they were drawn to living, beating hearts, eyewitness reports were many. But something about this situation had struck Roxas as odd some time ago. Besides the few Chinese soldiers who'd sworn up and down they'd run from something they couldn't explain, the supposed heartless that he was currently tracking was hardly more than a rumor; a rumor that was believed so fervently it had found its way to Mulan and caused her concern. From what Roxas had heard of Mulan from Sora, he trusted her judgement; he was certain there was something out here, but the longer he searched the more he began to suspect that it wasn't a Heartless at all.
This thought made his heart prick in his chest, anxiety creeping up on him. Not that he thought for a second that he couldn't handle whatever it was; it was just the not knowing hat was nerve wracking. He shook his head to dispel the bits of snow that clung to his spiky hair, and when he opened his eyes again he spotted something in the distance. A small cave in the side of the mountain. Immediately he set off towards it, hoping for a place to get out of the cold even for just a little.
The entrance was perhaps larger than he'd first thought, being about twice his height, and the cave receded a ways back into the rough stone of the mountain. He couldn't see the end of it. But he pushed his wariness aside in favor of finally being able to sit down somewhere dry, just for a minute or two; now, if he could just manage a fira to warm up a little...