He rarely saw the other five, and with his own problems weighing on him, he didn't care enough to go looking for them.
Despite how impossible his circumstances seemed, he still held on to hope, but the uncertainty was eating away at him, weighing on his shoulders like a mountain.
A part of him kept whispering that it was all futile and hopeless, that perhaps he really was just in denial, and that he would never manage to get stronger.
Every day, he wrestled with that voice in his head, trying to keep it from wearing down what little hope he had left.
Frost let out a slow breath, turning the tab between his fingers before a soft knock sounded at his door.
He sat up on the bed, wondering who could be visiting at this hour, then wrapped the coin in a thin cloth and tucked it into his pocket. With a slight frown, he walked over to the door and opened it.
