Where there was smoke, there was fire. And Desmond definitely smelled smoke. Turning in the wind's direction, he could even see it, flickering through the trees. At least someone had managed a fire in the snow. He grabbed his socks and shoes and yanked them back on, cringing at the cold wetness of them. But he'd last for now. Slowly he made his way toward the light, using logs and stones to keep out of the deepest snow, and more danger of frostbite.

He was halfway to the fire when he picked up the voices. Desmond frowned. Some kind of argument that wasn't his business. But what if it was Shaun stuck here too? Or his dad? His gaze followed a fallen log, finding the patterns in the branches and the trees. Connor had taught him how to get up there, in that way only the Animus could. Now if only he could do the same without breaking his neck. Besides, he weighed less than Connor. The guy was a fucking bear compared to Desmond. He took a deep breath and slowly made his way up to the treeline, timing his jumps carefully. Clumsy and awkward compared to Connor's quick, light steps. But at least he wasn't bad enough to go crashing down into the snow.

He just hoped that fire would still be going by the time he reached it.