He was dreaming. His body was floating in a white field of nothingness. Then after an indecipherable amount of time he was swallowed into a thick, warm darkness.
In some dim corner of his mind, Kakashi inferred that he had been eaten. Eaten by the winter entity, known as Old Man Winter.
Being eaten, he mused, was quite a bizarre experience. There had been no pain, or blood, or gore; just an enveloping warmth that had driven away the hellish chill from his bones. Quite frankly, death felt oddly homey.
Somehow this did not sit well with the young shinobi even in unconsciousness. Kakashi attempted to move his limbs, his body feeling almost comfortably numb with warmth. Fingers, toes, arms, legs, and head. Everything was here. Wherever here was.
He forced away the lazy weight of sleep and cracked open both of his eyes, feeling a prick of alarm when the restriction of the forehead protector was absent.
The world came into focus with remarkable slowness. He became aware of a weight on his chest. It was a thick, heavy blanket. The cloth was rough, but was wonderfully adept at holding in the warmth. Kakashi noticed that he was laying on a bed of furs. Bear pelt most likely, if one were to factor the size. He turned his head to take in his surroundings.
It seemed that he was in a cave. Strangely, the cave formed a perfect circle about fifteen to twenty feet in diameter. The stone walls looked weathered in some areas, while some others looked as though someone had carved into it. The room had probably been naturally carved out by the wind and snow, and then extended by the user. From the ceiling, the smoked carcasses of animals (he hoped) hung from iron hooks that had been screwed into the cold rock. Above the fire, however, the ceiling arched away and disappeared into the darkness.
The entrance he noticed had been partially blocked off by a large boulder so that only a crack, wide enough to squeeze through, remained. It had been calculatingly placed to block out the cold and wind, and probably detection from the outside.
In the middle of the cave, a smoldering ash-heap sat in a depression in the floor. A few embers glowed beneath the dust. Directly across from him a small pile of wood stood by the entrance, ready and waiting to feed the fire.
A few feet away from him were another pile of provisions. Canned foods, clothes, medical supplies, and what looked like an old shinobi survival pack had been carefully organized. It seemed that the owner of this cave was experienced and fully prepared for a long, hard winter.
It seemed that he had not been eaten after all, but saved. However, the shinobi pack instilled a little wariness in him. It could have been scavenged or stolen. Just because this person had saved him, did not make his current position safe.
Kakashi attempted to sit up but was shocked by a sudden rush of pain. Out in the blizzard, the cold had numbed the pain, but the thawing warmth of the cave had awakened the wounds. He hissed as he tried to relax again. His torso had been carefully wrapped in bandages swathed in a strong smelling ointment
For the time being, it seemed, he was stuck.
Faintly, Kakashi heard the sound of crunching snow, then the scraping of rock.
The mysterious owner of the cave had returned.
In the dim lighting Kakashi studied the man with a groggy eye. Snow dusted the straggly, wind-ripped hair and scruffy clothing. He was dressed in a heavy snow coat with an equally heavy grey scarf shielding his mouth and nose. In all honesty he looked like a large grey bear.
The grey bear had his back to him, dragging in what appeared to be a good portion of a tree. Its other end hit the floor with a loud thud. The man proceeded to hack the tree into chunks of firewood...with his bare hands.
This cemented Kakashi's suspicions. This man was a shinobi. The dead accuracy and strength of each crushing blow upon the wood screamed with years and years of training. The man's arm cut through the tree like a knife, splintering the log like a toothpick.
At last the man had finished and tossed the damp wood next to the fire to dry out. He turned to tend to the fire when his eyes caught sight of the silver haired shinobi.
The skin of the man's face looked weather-beaten. His eyes, which were a startlingly deep blue, were surrounded by lines and shadows from sleep deprivation and squinting against snow blindness.
Those squinty eyes widened for a moment in surprise. Kakashi also gave a start.
The man's pupils were slits, like a cat of some kind. There was an innate feral quality to them that made Kakashi shiver unconsciously.
The glacier eyes narrowed again, but this time with a little less chill in them.
"Good morning, Kakashi."
Okay, i totally know this is kinda boring but please bear with me. It's only a plot bunny, but please review. Please!