The wind gradually turned cold, with a biting chill blowing from the forest, cutting across his face like a knife.
The boy's father seemed slightly distracted. He felt the distant figure resembled his wife somewhat, but the voice and movements were utterly out of place, as if manipulated by strings like a puppet. The words the old man spoke earlier came to his mind. He glanced back at the child, reached over to shut the window, and checked once again to ensure the window lock was secure.
Having prepared everything, he turned and squatted beside the sofa, placing his right hand's index and middle fingers together, horizontally beneath the old man's nostrils to feel for breath. Once the window was closed, the strong wind inside the house dissipated, ensuring there would be no interference. His fingers were placed there for nearly 5 seconds, yet he could not feel any perceptible airflow. Subsequently, he lifted the old man's right hand to feel for a pulse.