"Hehe, well that was... that was... well... whew! Pretty cold huh?" the breathless Whirlwind said, trying to strike up conversation as he chased the chill from his bones. The air was still cold but the iron doors did a remarkable job of keeping the storm on the outside, despite the howling wind. Handy didn't respond, his teeth chattering, he had a million questions he wanted to ask right then, but simply couldn't. Besides, if he didn't see the White Stag, how much help would Whirlwind actually be?