Since We've No Place To Go, Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow!

Snow continued to fall in sheets as the sky grew darker and darker until the sun finally disappeared beneath the horizon. Drífa growled in frustration. The amount of snow already on the ground plus the rapid escalation of even more was making it difficult to find her storage den which had been dug into the earth. The entrance had been covered with thick bands of bark and she'd set a birch stick with some reeds tied to the top up to mark it in the ever increasing snow but she did not account for this much volume. A silly mistake. She assumed the winter's in this land would be significantly milder and to a small extent they were but the amount of precipitation was impressive.

She heard Ignatius call out and turned to see his bright coat standing out like a beacon against the snow. Though the increase in the snowy down pour combined with the wind was quickly obscuring even his gaudy coat. She swiftly moved over toward him and nodded. "Yes, that would be wonderful. I can't seem to find my spare storage den."

She followed Ignatius to the entrance of a cave and quickly slipped inside. Already it seemed much warmer now that she was out of the wind and after she took a moment to gently poke Brynhildr into getting off her, she shook out her coat before venturing further inside. She smelt the scent o game and assumed this was a place for hunting storage. Gently sitting down she gazed back out at the storm. It was impressive.

"So what have you been up to Ignatius?" She figured she may as well strike up conversation. She had no idea how long the storm would last.