Wartime (winter)

It had been snowing for three days now. Not the large, beautiful flakes you see on postcards, but fine sleet that the wind blew into your face, clinging to your collars and sleeves. The roads had long since disappeared beneath the drifts, the trees stood as black silhouettes, and the few remaining tracks in the snow were completely covered within a few hours. The war continued, even in winter. Artillery explosions echoed faintly in the distance. Occasionally, a dim glow would appear above the forest, and then it became clear: the front was still close. Too close. Deep in the snow-covered forest, there were no roads or signs. Only old spruce trees, a few fallen trees, and a small, perfectly natural-looking rocky hill. Beneath it lay something only a few knew existed: a bunker. The entrance was so well camouflaged that even someone passing just a few meters away would likely not notice. The snow-covered hatch was hidden beneath branches and artificially placed pieces of bark. No smoke rose from the ground—the heating was routed through a long underground shaft, hidden far from the shelter itself.
but no one was allowed into the bunkers.

A cold winter spent during the war. The main thing is to survive and try to find shelter before the cold sets in, right down to your extremities. (Second-tier characters to your taste, including your character.)