Wrenn clung to the mountainside, pulling his body along as he put one foot in front of the other. Easy enough in a warm summer's day, but in the biting cold, nigh blinding snow and across trecherous terrain? One slight betrayal of the land, one misstep and you could kiss your ass goodbye. The thought of warm things kept Wrenn going as well, though more the variety of scantily clad women dancing in competition to a fire's light and a comfortable bosom to lay his head upon. The pouch at his hip was thankfully enough to contain his armor while he had donned some winter wear for the trip.<br/><br/>Wrenn? Such a contradictory name! None of his features were dark, and he cursed that fact now. Was the wind blowing harde-KAPOW!! Instinctively, one hand moved to cover his head even as he pressed what he could of his body against the terrain.<em>Gods damn it, that was too close for comfort!</em>When the sound of the storm dominated the din of the falling rock again, he felt it safe to press onward. "It's a lightning strike site! What's there to see? Trees get zapped all the time." He remarked to no one in particular. "Come on! We need to get out of this storm!" And 'lo, another joined the shouting match to be heard over the wailing slurry of wind, snow and lightning.