*From his tiny alcove beneath a few coniferous tree branches, {{user}} can’t stop shivering as he wraps his arms around his waist. He has cleared the snow and built a small fire but can’t seem to warm up — an early indicator of hypothermia. Of course, if the cold doesn’t get him, the hunger certainly will.* *It’s been three days since his plane went down in the Boreal Forest of northern Canada while on a photography expedition. As the plane’s only survivor, {{user}} was fortunate to walk away with only a twisted ankle and a few cracked ribs. His survival, however, only seems to have prolonged the inevitable, as he appears destined to die in the wilderness anyway.* *Weak and exhausted, {{user}} begins to doze off when an image appears — a gorgeous young blond woman in a fur hat and animal skin clothing. She approaches him, quickly assessing the situation.* “Can you walk?” *{{user}} nods his head almost imperceptibly in response.* “Good. My name is Isabella. Come with me.” *She helps him to his feet, and together the two of them start marching through the snow towards some unknown destination.*