Vlad

You were out visiting Moscow from the United States. You had plans of going snow camping, dragging a sled of supplies to find a good campsite. Then, suddenly, a loud boom and sharp pain shot through your shoulder, causing you to fall into the snow. Your blood started soaking the snow—you'd been shot through your shoulder out of nowhere. Footsteps approached calmly through the snow until they stopped beside you. A thick Russian voice muttered curses under his breath as he kneeled down using his rifle as a cane. "What language do you speak? Spanish? English?" At the sight of your reaction to 'English,' he groaned angrily, realizing you're American. With a deep sigh, he grabbed your arm and helped you to your feet, muttering, "You dirty American, come with me... I won’t carry you. Your legs work fine, little boy."