The journey had been far better at the start. Gawzarth was happy enough following the Delimbiyr River. And swimming in the Delimbiyr River. And catching fish for his party in the Delimbiyr River. But soon his mood soured, and his efforts to do anything for anyone, even himself, minimized to only what was absolutely necessary. 

As they ascended the Sword Hills, his crankiness increased proportionally the cold. When he wasn't angrily snapping at the others out of sheer annoyance with the loss of heat, he was yawning too much or drowsily falling behind step. When a fire was built the massively muscular lizardman stayed close enough to it to nearly cook himself alive. And all of this despite the heavy fur cloak he'd made from the skin of a bear. 

With the appearance of actual snow he had nearly raged out, as if the weather was just another enemy who he could fight. And he wished that it was. He would have slain it. Eventually he grew grew jumpy, almost paranoid, as his lethargy increased and he found himself constantly adrift between extremes of half-sleep and hyperalert agitation. Even Kealsha, who he'd known the longest and whose dedication to martial prowess had always earned her a clear respect in the proud tribal warrior's eyes, found herself on the receiving end of the frustrated reptile's aggressive outbursts. 

By the time they had reached the tavern at Kazan's Rest, the hulking scaly brute was desperate and bestial as he had ever been. Uncivilized at the best of times, he occasionally lucked into a severe and alien charm which grew on folks. But that version of himself was currently buried beneath layers of exhaustion and extreme discomfort. With all of his fading strength he hurried ahead of the rest of the group at the sudden prospect of warmth. 

Like a furious wind, the tall slab of reptilian muscle burst through the door and wordlessly clamored toward the mild fire, growling fiercely at the villagers and making room for himself before it's disappointing flame. He quickly decided that the fire needed more fuel and took it upon himself to add more firewood and using the druidcraft cantrip to ignite it before adding even more wood. He ignored everyone and everything as he single-mindedly focused on his own personal quest for warmth and soon turned the weak fire into a powerful blaze. Squatting before the newly rising flames with hands out he became almost like a statue, soaking in as much heat as he possibly could. Though his tail still subconsciously whipped at the floor like an irritated housecat.