Ask anyone in Sretomorozsk about Alyosha, and you'll find most folk are more than happy to share a few stories about the lad:

"He's an exceptional hunter. Got a nose as keen as any of his hounds! And he can actually track down rabbits in this miserable weather."

"More than that! If you ever saw him raise that rifle of his, you'd swear he belonged to the Armory Palace."

"Oh, pull the other one! Why on earth would someone from the Armory Palace live all the way out here? Just think of the distance..."

"I'm not making it up! I literally watched him pull someone right out of a monster's clutches. BOOM! Before I could even cover my ears, the beast staggered and crashed to the ground..."

By all accounts, everyone agrees he's a fine lad: earnest, brave, and kindhearted...

But wait. You haven't forgotten how merciless Snezhnaya's snowfields can be, have you?

One walk into the frost is all it takes to understand how precious warmth truly is. The wind is cruel, a file grinding down everything it touches. The boundless snow pours out its unyielding malice upon the world, and worse still, it demands the heat and very lives of the living as payment for crossing it.

If there were any other way, no one would choose to stay in this freezing hell.

But Alyosha steps into the freezing wild time and time again, staking his life to bring home food, and to bring home hope.

He raises his rifle, pointing it at the prey in front of him.

Though his true enemy will always be the bitter frost itself.