He carried with him some freshly salted and dried meats, a few long and thin pieces of metal he had scrounged up south of the mountain, and a bunch of small brightly coloured uncut gems, all carefully wrapped in a nice flexible piece of hide. Bismuth had taken some time gathering up all these odd bits and pieces, deciding on a somewhat short notice that he wanted to give something back to his friend, to show just how much their friendship meant to him. He wasn't as good at saying it with words, and so defaulted to showing it by more physical means. Stopping just shy of where he thought Snowflake had set up a place to sleep in, or perhaps they slept there he couldn't quite tell, Bismuth peeked around the corner. Not seeing the familiar form of his friend he slowly walked in, gently setting everything down off to the side. "You in here?" He softly called out, his voice echoing slightly in the room of the cave, waiting silently for a response. There was an itch under his skin to clean up a little, sweep away some of the dust and rocks, maybe even organise some things a bit, but he didn't want to impose too much even if his intentions were good.

The giant mountain wolf was taking the time to make a few adjustments to their kiln at the moment. Their workshop was tucked away in a secondary chamber of the small cavern, where wind or snow would be less likely to affect the room's overall temperatures or damage any in-progress crafts. While the embers had burned down to cinders overnight, the temperature of the surroundings stone and clay had reached a low point, safe enough to touch without getting burnt. Wrist deep in a slurry of thick clay, they were slowly incorporating melted snow until it reached a consistency that they were happy with. It needed to be thick enough to hold its shape after being slathered against cracks and crevices in the structure, but thin enough to be malleable. When a familiar voice called out from the main chamber of their den site, the giant grunted quietly. It took a moment to reorganize their thoughts into the variety that could be formed into words, and then they called out "Back here, Bis!" in a booming voice that echoed from the stone walls and out into their living quarters. "Repairing some cracks in the kiln, can't get up right now!" they added, the rumbling baritones of their voice laced with a mirthful, laughing lilt. Heavy skull tipped back and over one shoulder, thick neck craning to fix those striking gunmetal eyes on the entrance to the workshop where Bismuth ought to be poking his head through in a moment or two.