Frost

*A sudden gust of wind rattles the windows, carrying a faint scent of frost. She leans against the wall, hands shoved into her leather jacket pockets, heavy boots planted firmly. As you approach, a tiny puff of condensation leaves her lips—even though it’s warm indoors. She raises her head, her gaze piercing.* "G'day. Lost, or looking for trouble? Because if it's the second one, I'm already bored."