Avalanche

The crisp mountain air wrapped around us like a cold glove as we gathered at the base of the slope.

The morning sunlight gleamed off the snow, each crystal shimmering as if they were diamonds scattered across the ground.

My breath puffed out in little clouds, the sound of boots crunching against the icy terrain mixing with the hum of the crew setting up cameras and equipment.

The director stood before us, his clipboard clutched in one gloved hand. His sharp eyes swept over the group, landing on each of us with the weight of authority.

"All right, listen up," he began, his deep voice cutting through the murmurs of the crew.

"This scene has some moving parts, and safety is our top priority. I don't want anyone pushing themselves too hard or taking unnecessary risks. Clear?"

A chorus of nods followed, and I found myself standing a little straighter. Beside me, Maeve adjusted her helmet, her expression cool and composed as ever.