Medic liked snow. He liked how sounds were engulfed in the peaceful white and how everything became crystallized and calm.
Medic also likes animals. He enjoyed keeping his birds and feeding them. He liked cleaning them out as it calmed him down (much like the serenity of snow), and he liked the chattering noise that came from the higher rafters of his medical bay when everything was quiet except Archimedes.
What he didn't like was not knowing something. He didn't like it when some event or mishap had happened and he was left in the dark. He didn't like secrets or having to worry about them.
So when Archimedes went missing it tore him apart. So there he was, out in the snow with his coat tightly wrapped around him and with thicker gloves to replace his usual rubber ones to keep his ill-circulated hands as warm as possible. It was not heavily snowing, and he could see fine, but only once he had removed his glasses – otherwise the crystals of ice and snow stuck to the lenses and he had to stop after each step to clean them. It was better that his peripherals were foggy and his depth perception lacking than being blinded by wet fog. It had been a few hours of wandering in circles around the base and yet still no sign of the dove, despite his calls, tosses of bird seed and promises of hot Scout organs to sleep in. Sighing, the doctor found a comfortable spot, tucked his coat under his backside and sat in the snow.
He toyed with his gloves and fiddled with the bag of seed he had brought, glassed over eyes watching the skyline and frost-bitten ears listening for wing beats in the silence of snow. He sighed eventually and rubbed his eyes, letting his eyes drop to the mud slicken snow at his feet instead of the entirely grey sky.
That's when he spotted the tiny tracks of dove feet. Silently in the fog of December, his eyes trailed after the tiny footprints until they stopped by the side of building of his base. There were tiny tracks and scuffs around the final feet marks, indicating to the German that the dove had flown, and raising his eyes he found a crack in the grey brickwork.
Bending to be able to see, the doctor pressed his eye to the gap and found a bundle of sticks, twigs and white fluff.
Suddenly, the largest bump of white fluff moved and sat up, tiny beady eyes catching the worried blue of the Medics, and Archimedes poked his head out the gap in the brickwork.
" . . . . You know its much varmer inside."
The dove gave a low coo in the back of its throat, shuck off the grime from the brickwork and nest, and hopped onto its keepers warm and awaiting shoulder.