"Of course he sends us to fucking Russia." Lydia said, shivering in the thin, scrub like dress that served as her clothing. No shoes, hat, coat or anything generically warm to shelter her from the cold. She rubbed her arms in a futile attempt to keep whatever body heat she had left. 

"Let's just hurry up and get this over with before I become a fucking popsicle." She said, trudging through the snow towards the building. "Hopefully this place is more humane." She grumbled.