FOLLOW MY VOICE, POSSUM

Giovanni struggled to trudge through the thick blanket of snow, surrounded by swirling snowflakes as they danced in the air around him. The mountain beneath his feet felt familiar as if he had been here before, although he could not quite place where or when. The icy air was crisp and cold, biting at his cheeks as he trudged through the snow, his breath forming clouds in front of his face.

"Not this again," he muttered to himself, glancing around to try and see through the thick fog.

He could hear a faint voice calling his name through the snowstorm, a whisper on the wind that sent a shiver down his spine. He stopped in his tracks, unsure of whether to follow the voice or to ignore it and continue on his journey. It was a voice he recognised, a voice that tugged at his heartstrings and stirred memories long buried in the depths of his mind. The voice grew louder, more insistent as if it was beckoning him to come closer.

Should I follow the voice?