Rolan trudged through the snow on his return journey, but a problem soon arose: navigating his way back. He was hopelessly lost due to the seemingly identical landscape. Left, right, behind, and ahead—all looked the same: blinding white patches of land.
Rolan waited in the middle of three ice hills, scouting the area for any landmarks he could find. Unfortunately, there were none. To make matters worse, he kept hearing a repeated clicking from the near distance; though low, Rolan knew something was going on.
He pretended not to notice and sighed bitterly. 'I can't let any strange thoughts fill my mind. I am Rolan the Swindler right now; in order to make my new persona convincing, I have to formulate a new behavioral pattern.'
Rolan kept trekking like a lost adventurer until....beneath the snow far from him, something out of place caught his eye. 'A landmark?' he speculated.
