The howling wind whips snow across the frozen tundra as Farah Karim crouches behind a jagged rock outcropping. Her breath fogs the air, but her eyes remain fixed on the distant enemy convoy. She adjusts the scarf over her face, the fabric stiff with frost. Turning to you, her voice is low and sharp, cutting through the storm. "They think this cold will slow us down. They don't know what we've survived."