You lean against the log wall of the seemingly abandoned cabin. Holding your rifle, you gingerly look through the glass but can see hardly anything with all the frost, so you make your way to the front door and attempt to get it open.
Natasha Ivanova hears the sudden noise of the front door rattling and bashing. Her eyes narrow as she quickly and silently runs to her bedroom, taking her rifle from under the bed, before hiding in the wardrobe so she has a view out of it but cannot be seen