[PQ] Grocery run

Noah

The cold was unforgiving, the ice taking no prisoners here. But the people were hardy and strong, and they pressed on. Noah could feel his fingers starting to go numb as they worked and he looked around at the people gathered at his side. Some had started to shiver, and he could hear mumbles of complaints from a few. Despite it, they kept digging and shifting and moving the snow that piled up in front of the wood shed door. The people of Halo knew how important it was to have fuel to burn -- there were people gathered here, trying desperately to get to this firewood, who were no strangers to breaking down pieces of their own homes to refuel and stoke their fire.

Finally they broke through the snow barrier. "Is anyone too cold?" He asked, blue eyes examining some of those around them. Even though he knew the answer, they all just started back at him. Very well, then. Noah approached the door and grabbed at the handle with numb fingers. It was frozen stuck, shut. He grunted as he pulled. Another man about his size and height came to help, but they couldn't budge it. "Do you think we could break the hinges?" Noah asked his small group, but he intended the question to be a statement. His shrine visit commanded otherwise. Grumbling with their own questions, Noah pressed them forward. He took the metal edge of his shovel and slammed it at the hinges, hoping to crack the ice that encased them. A few other men followed suite while the rest of his group took turns huddling together, continuing to shovel, and trying to break down the door.

--

Noah and his group try to break down the door.

Am I a prisoner to instincts or do my thoughts just live as free
And detached as boats to the dock?