The wind hit him again, harder this time, swirling snow into his face. Elias didn't hunch. He zipped the snorkel hood up to his chin, shoved his hands into the fleece-lined pockets, and started walking. For the first time since he’d arrived, the city didn't feel like an enemy. It just felt like home.

Twenty minutes later, he walked into the store. The air smelled of cedar and expensive leather. There it was, hanging on a heavy wooden rack: the in a deep, forest green.

"I'm looking to survive the walk back to the train," Elias replied.

He pulled out his phone, fingers already numbing, and typed a desperate command into the search bar: