In the depths of a dense forest blanketed in white snow, a middle-aged man with a gray-white beard has set up a small campsite on the thick snowy ground. A black tarp tent is stretched at an angle between two large trees, its surface covered with a heavy layer of snow. Around the camp are half-burned logs and footprints pressed deep into the white surface.
A small fire crackles nearby, its warm orange glow reflecting on the snow and the bare branches above, sending wisps of smoke drifting into the cold misty air. Next to it, a small metal pot simmers with pine needle tea, a golden roasted chicken hangs nearby, and an old snow-covered backpack rests against a log.
The air is silent except for the sound of the wind whispering through the forest, the faint rustle of falling snow, and the soft crackle of the fire — creating a harsh yet peaceful survival atmosphere, where a lone man fights to keep his warmth amid the frozen wilderness.