Each breath was full of icicles that raked at his throat and burnt his lungs, and hissed past his teeth as Herbert sucked in. 

He waved his hand dismissively at Will, shaking his head.

“Thank you,” he said, “But not thank you. I am fine.”

As if to prove this, he straightened up from his hunched stance and his breathing became shallower. He could feel the searching hands of wind and ice, reddening his face, but the new clothes proved much better protection from the elements. The snowfall was already beginning to hide their tracks with a crisp new coat. 

He looked back at the castle. It was still more or less intact, as it had been, and there were no signs of any avalanche. The gouts of flame lapped in violent opposition to the cold, and held their unnatural ground. Herbert shivered. Then he coughed.

“I’ll be good.” Herbert answered Will after he finished his upsurge. His breathing was back to normal now, though he felt a little shaky in the legs.

“How do you expect to descend from this place?” Herbert asked, “It could be more than a trek to the bottom, and treacherous. I have no experience in climbing, but I do know we’ve left more than half the supplies back up there,” He said, pointing the castle on its perch, “Can we at least go back and get them? Perhaps their owners would have returned by now.” 

It was a foolish plea on a slender hope, but he was confused, scared and tired, and he did not fancy dying freezing halfway down a mountain, or slipping and falling to his death. He pondered which would be worse. 
 
At the low hum of an engine, Herbert looked to the sky. A plane, not like the ones he knew, it was sleeker and darker, but held enough semblance. He pointed at it.

“Look! That could be a rescue party,” He said, though there was doubt in his voice; it was not the sort of plane to rescue lost climbers, but Herbert felt the fires could be better explained now. 

What happened next was a vision of terrifying. A huge beast, unfathomably large and winged bit and tore at the metal of the plane, great spouts of fire flashing in the air, red and hellish as the beast itself.

Herbert was on his ass in the snow. He hadn’t realised he’d fallen. His mouth was agape as he stared in disbelief.