[@Wraithblade6]
Without a word, Alice sets off at a run. Her legs are like those of a grasshopper, if a grasshopper were designed to run. In long leaping bounds she covers ground faster than most cars, leaving a trail of cracked icy ground in her wake as she briefly lands. Mithias meanwhile runs beside her, not as fast, but with far greater stamina. After all, how does one get winded without breath? Any distance she won on him, he easily made up for when she stops for breath.

The closer the pair comes to the mountain, the more Mithias realizes that their goal does not lie beyond it. The mountain has something of an ancient, frozen cathedral. Hundreds of entrances carved into stone, surrounded be elaborate works made from magically hardened ice. Great sheets of coloured ice serve as windows, each the size of a car. Even at this distance, the dragons can be seen arriving and leaving, massive wings propelling them across the sky. An elegant nest, forged with a delicacy one would not expect from such a massive creature. No doubt great magics had been required to construct such a site within a mountain.

Once they get within a certain range, Alice uses a snowstorm for cover. The roiling whirlwind makes seeing normally nearly impossible especially from the air. She simply changes her eyes to thermal vision, however, ready to spot any large heat signatures through the white blur. Mithias would be more severely hindered, although unlike Alice, he faced no danger from the cold. While she shielded herself with a thick coat of fur, he could march through the frost to no end. 

At the end of this journey Alice arrives at a small cave opening, far too narrow for any dragon. She walks down it, entering a room with a simple small camp fire and a chest of supplies. Meats, kept fresh by.... well, the climate. She lights the fire, clearly not far from serious hypothermia. Even her ability to withstand cold had it's limits, and that blizzard had nearly overcome them.