Your fingers hover over the three silver domes, breath fogging in the frigid air. You choose the one on the left—because something about its symmetry feels right—and lift the lid with a soft metallic clink.

Instantly, the freezer is engulfed in a billowing cloud of steam. It smells unmistakably of gravy—rich, savoury, and piping hot—cut through with the sharp tang of squeaky cheese curds. The cold air swirls with warmth and wonder, and for a moment, it feels like winter itself is sighing in satisfaction.

The Keeper of the Ice finally looks up from his magazine, his expression unreadable beneath the fur-lined hood. Then he nods, solemn and approving.

“You chose wisely,” he says. “That’s Poutine #47—certified, cheesy, and spiritual. A rare one. Only appears when the temperature drops below minus twenty and the moon’s in a particularly generous mood.”

He slides the plate toward you with reverence. You tuck it carefully into your pouch, the warmth of it somehow resisting the cold around you.

✅ You now have (make note):

• Poutine (No. 47 – Spiritual Grade)

You step out of the freezer, steam trailing behind you like a victorious banner. The snow crunches underfoot, the Rockies loom in the distance, and though you’re not entirely sure what just happened, you feel triumphant… and a little hungry for more.

Time to head to your next destination.