Hanna and Rob had been racing down the slopes all day. The score after six races stands at 3-3; the seventh race is well underway. Half-way down the course, they're neck-and-neck. The sun is starting to get low; this will be the last race of the day. To the victor, bragging rights and a free dinner; to the loser, the bill.
A few hundred yards from the finish line, something in the tree-line distracts Hanna. Rob takes advantage, pulling ahead. Moments later, he crosses the line victorious; he slews to a halt in the finishing area.
"Looks like dinner's on you tonight!" Rob waits for Hanna's inevitable retort; it doesn't come. "Hanna?" Rob looks around; Hanna has halted on the slope, a couple of hundred yards from the finish. She's obviously seen something. Eventually, Hanna slowly makes her way down to the finishing area. She slides to a halt in front of Rob, who has dismounted from his skis; she's still distracted by the same spot in the treeline.
"What have you seen?" Rob asks; Hanna doesn't respond. "Whatever it was, it's cost you dinner tonight." Still no response. "Rob to Hanna, come in Hanna…" Still no response. Rob taps Hanna on the shoulder. She jumps in surprise; her skis tangle, causing her to fall with a yelp.
"Don't sneak up on me like that!" she snaps.
"I didn't sneak up on you; you stopped right in front of me, and ignored everything I said to you."
"So you pushed me over?"
"I only tapped your shoulder; you fell over your own skis."
Hanna scrambles upright, muttering unrepeatable words under her breath. She looks back to the distracting part of the treeline. "Can't see it anymore."
"See what?"
"Not sure, but I get the feeling whatever it was, it was watching us."
"You're getting paranoid."
Hanna turns away from the treeline, dismounts from her skis, and starts to trudge towards the chalet. "Let's just get dinner over with."
After dinner, Hanna and Rob retire to their room; the sun has set.
"I still want to go and find whatever it was that cost me the race," Hanna declares.
"Whoever or whatever it was, it won't be there anymore," Rob assures. "Besides, it's too dark to go wandering in the woods."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Hanna sighs. She checks the mini-fridge, seeing nothing she likes the look of. "I'm gonna go get a drink from the café; want anything?"
"Surprise me," Rob answers, settling on the bed and turning on the TV; Hanna departs for the café.
Ten minutes later, Hanna returns with a couple of drinks and an assortment of snacks.
"I'm back," she announces, entering the room. "Anything good on-"
The room shows signs of a struggle; Rob's sai lie bent to uselessness on the floor. Hanna drops her provisions, and sprints to the now open window. A grappling hook remains secured to the windowsill, the connected rope long enough to reach the ground. Hanna starts to growl angrily; her grip tightens enough to start warping the thin wooden sill.
A noise sounds behind her; turning, she tears the sill from its mount. The source of the noise is a small device on the bed, pinning a note down against the airflow. Hanna drops the remains of the windowsill, stalks to the bed, picks up the device in one hand, the note in the other, and crushes the device to destruction. She reads the note; her anger escalates to vengeful fury. Tearing the note to confetti, she flees the room and out of the chalet at top speed.