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Stranded together during the storm, Canaan, Scyeth, Wynn and Rufus suddenly find themselves trapped in a thick fog! You can’t see anything!

Do you try to head back and find your way out, or do you press onwards in hopes of finding a path or a road (or at least a way out)?

In the face of the brutal storm, Wynn had struggled as hard as he could to keep moving forward. Roaring winds of ice and snow were common to the young Inuk, so when the storm first brewing, Wynn had wisely put on his caribou antler snow goggles. They were perfect for this situation, keeping the snow and ice from his eyes as well as the burning wind, and Wynn was glad to have brought them along. Then again, if there was ice, the Inuk was going to be prepared. No amount of preparation could have saved him the peak of the storm's anger, though. After he could no longer keep himself standing, Wynn slowly sunk to his knees and balled up against the snow, keeping his back to blunt the wind. The snow gathered about his body as he tucked in upon himself, trying to keep his warmth from being stolen by the wind. This had to be the spirits, he concluded, it just had to. The village had been wrong to lose the child...Or maybe they were wrong in following the boy? Whatever they were angry about, the spirits threw this storm upon them.

As quickly as it came, the storm died, collapsing in upon itself and leaving only heavy blankets of fog and mist. Lifting himself onto his hands and knees, Wynn shook the snow from his shoulders and hair. He was fine, he was safe, no frostbite and no hurts. Moving his goggles onto his forehead, the Inuk glanced around, looking for the others...But there were none. At first, he was convinced that he was lost, separated from everyone else in the group, but a familiar face and broad set of shoulders moved in through the fog, dark skin and dark hair. It was Cane. A feeling of relief sprouted in Wynn's stomach as he recognized his native relative and he gratefully took the helping hand.

"Brother! You are here!" Wynn shouted in reply. He stumbled out of the snow and onto his feet, shaking clots of snow off of his caribou skin outerwear. He pulled his hood over his head, protecting his ears from the cold, and pressed himself near to Cane. He refused to let go of Cane lest he get separated. This fog! It was so thick! Even in the wilderness of Alaska, the moors, the tundra, or even the sleepy mountains, Wynn had never seen fog this thick. He could hardly make out Cane as well as the other two bodies nearby. "The others...Where are they? Lost? Who is here?"

As soon as they got close enough, Wynn saw that the other body upon the ground was none other than Scyeth and there was a tourist nearby as well. "Scyeth!" Wynn quipped, trying to snatch the demon's attention. Then, assured that Cane would take care of him, Wynn turned to the stranger, "Sir? Close, come close! Get lost if you stray!"

Rufus' breath was quite literally knocked out of him by the raw power of the storm. As they had departed for the tower, a new objective given to them - finding a lost village boy, ferocious winds had torn into the party of tourists and school boys. The storm had been clawing at the minute area of Rufus' exposed face, savagely tearing at the skin with a barrage of snowflakes and ice till it was red raw. He silently thanked the thick goggles that covered the majority of his face and tugged his tightly wrapped scarf higher in an attempt to shield some more of his face from the furious gale; although he was sure that the cold had already seared it's mark into him.. It was socking to think that a tiny gap between the scarf's fabric and his goggles could cause such damage. God's wrath in the form of a storm had no mercy to even the smallest of flaws and he was half glad that he had such a weighty backpack - his planning for the worse would most likely be for the best.

He couldn't see anything. Not a single shape could be spotted through the swirling mass of snow that was shrieking at him. It was no use even contemplating shouting through the fabric of the scarf, eve if it did penetrate the scarf his words would be snatched away by the wind. Desperately he thought back to what he knew about snowstorms, admittedly it wasn't a specialist subject of his, but he had to be able to scrounge up some sort of knowledge to help him.. The best course of action was to keep put. Wandering off would not only increase the chances of further separating from the main group but he could also walk straight over a cliff or fall into a glacial crack. Settling with this idea the man fell to his knees, putting the bulky bag above him as his main defence against the wind and preyed that the storm wound relent.

Surprisingly the vicious attack of the weather calmed down sooner than Rufus had expected. He must've been curled up for only a mere five minutes or so before the howling of the wind ceased and all that remained of the blizzard was a flurry of light flakes. However, a new curse seemed to have befallen Rufus. He blinked, half considering that somehow his goggles had failed in protecting his eyes and the storm had somehow blinded him.. But he raised a hand to his face and found that the area was now enveloped in... fog...

He cursed under his breath. "One problem after another.." This trip was going downhill, and unless it perked up soon he would start to regret this trip, however appealing the chance of viewing the 'stairway to heaven' was. In fact Rufus was starting to have second thoughts about agreeing to this rather far fetched idea of travelling to the tower when god so obviously seemed to be against them reaching the infamous building. However, all did not seem lost as other people's voices floated out of the thick white mist. An imposing shadow of a man appeared first, and then a smaller boy's frame revealed itself and addressed the first as brother. Reassured that he certainly wasn't on his own Rufus begun to brush the thick layer of snow off him, rising to his feet, hauling the heavy bag back onto his back - stooping under the ridiculous weight. He was caught off guard as a hissed cuss came from behind him and he swivelled to find another person getting up off the ground.

They appeared to be limping as they moved and the man frowned. He had painkillers somewhere in his bag. Should he offer them to the swearing boy? Would it be worth the effort of rooting around in the bag that was practically bursting at the seams? Perhaps not now, introductions were required first.

Following the instructions of the smaller of the brothers he moved towards their fog-cloaked silhouettes. "It looks like we've been seperated from the main group." He stated rather obviously as he approached. "I'm Rufus, amateur adventurer." He smiled in a warm greeting, before feeling rather foolish as they wouldn't be able to see due to the mist and the fact his scarf was still wrapped around his lower face.

"And you are..?"

When Scyeth fell forward with a cry, Wynn's chest tightened with worry. That was a cry of pain. Furrowing his brows, Wynn moved forward, keeping his arms extended so that he could keep hold of the hem of Cane's jacket and lightly touch the blond demon's shoulder. Seeing as how the demon tried to limp over through the thick fog, it had to be one of his feet, legs, or ankles that was causing him pain. At least there was snow and cold around so that it would decrease the amount of swelling, if there happened to be any.

"Where?" Wynn asked Scyeth, his amber eyes locking on Scyeth's with quiet intensity, "Where hurt? If you step, does it hurt? Can you move your foot up? Down? Side?" Wynn wasn't a medic, but when it came to injuries in the cold, he knew enough to get by. There were numerous times that the hunters in his village would fall through crevasses in the snow or slip on ice, so it was common knowledge how to treat the most common of injuries and know what from what else. Besides that, little Wynn wanted to be the village angakuqq and knowing about injuries was one thing he had to do.

At the edge of his hearing as he focused his attention on Scyeth, Wynn heard Cane introduce him to the other man and he smiled. He was happy to have ended up with Cane, even though that he worried over other students he was friends with, like Mica and even Darren. Cane was strong.

Upon hearing that he was the guide, the young Inuk felt the burden of responsibility settle onto his shoulders like snow settles on tree branches, soft and gentle. Cane had a point. Out of all the people here, Wynn had the most experience with cold climate and the most brutal forms of nature, which meant that he would be putting a lot of input on this situation.

"Move forward," Wynn agreed with his thick accent as he struggled to squint his eyes through the fog towards the faces of Cane and Rufus, "No shelter here, in case storm comes back. Find better, or find tower. We need to keep together." With that, Wynn took a moment to think. He hadn't brought rope, but that would be the most ideal thing to have at this point. Climbers of mountains would use this technique as they scaled treacherous sides and "Rope. We can rope each other's waists together, a line, safe. We don't get separated and if one falls through crack or slides, we can save them, pull them back up. Must be careful, though. One or all if someone falls. Might have to cut rope to save others, but better have chance to save one than lose one.

"I can move forward first. I am small, light. I know the snow and turf. It would be nice have stick, though, stick as tall as me, so I can prod snow. Test." Wynn looked around at the others.

While he was not particularly impressed with the injury (or with himself for the way he handled it), Scyeth could not deny the wealth of attention to garnered him. Canaan curled around him and introduced him, and perhaps, teased him. That stab was due, though, and the blond took it, instead turning to the other native, also fluttering worriedly.

"I can't walk fast, I don't think," he informed Wynn, privately amused that he was the wounded one, this time. "It hurts to step, man." He tried to wiggle his foot as the cocoa-addict indicated and was rewarded with a sharp burst of pain. The blond started and growled, surprised how that actually hurt. He must have fallen harder than he had thought. It had better not be broken. Not with spring (and his skateboard!) right around the corner.

And that was when the adult offered some painkillers. Scyeth swiveled around to get a good look. "Rufus, did you say?" Brilliant man, he had painkillers AND a rope. (Who the hell carried a rope around with them?) Speaking of ropes. "Wynn, I don't like that idea. What if one of us goes off a cliff, or something?" the blond pointed out, wrinkling his noise. "We can always rescue someone fallen, but if all four of us go?"

Oh wait. They were supposed to be going somewhere, weren't they? "We should...not be here if the storm comes back."

Scyeth spluttered, turning a little red in the face as Cane dismissed everything he said. And and he insisted on carrying him!? The blond hardly had time to think before he was hoisted up onto the native's back, red as a rose. The Australian didn't give up without a fight, squirming around and thumping Cane a little before quieting back down. "You owe me a new set f clothes," he remarked. He didn't need them, it was the principle of the thing. (And see if he didn't just toss Cane's stuff over that cliff he was sure of being on this adventure when they got there.)

"If you all go over a cliff, I don't want any part of it," the soldier sniffed, wriggling around again as he tried to get comfortable. If he had to suffer the mortification of being carried around like a small child, he was at least going to make the trip at least kind of pleasant. And by pleasant, we mean Scyeth gives Canaan as hard a time as he possibly can. After all, the demon did not consent to being dragged around like a rag doll.

"Fine. Let's go. Giddyup!" And Scyeth promptly thumped Cane's sides.

They finally broke through the fog, and as they came to a stopping point, where they needed to make a decision, Cane waited for Wynn to stop moving, the Rufus, before slowing himself, dropping Scyeth into the snow a little less roughly than he might've only an hour or two beforehand. The blonde was trying to make this difficult for the native, although, he'd ceased kicking at Cane's ribs after the first five minutes or so.

A casual grin was shot Scyeth's way, and he hailed Rufus and Wynn. "Ho, brother. What say you? The water or the hills?" He stretched strong arms. Scy, luckily, was quite light weight. Not really a problem, especially when on his back and somewhat cooperating. "And you, Rufus?"

The rope situation had worked out just fine so far. Wynn had done a great job of leading them through the fog and mist.

Just because Scyeth was quiet did not mean he was complacent, not by any means. The demon expressed his unhappiness quite vocally as Canaan dumped him into the snow, rolling on his side. So cold! The blond squalled, righting himself and taking a fistful of the cursed white powder, packing it into a little ball and whipping it right for Cane's head. See if he got dumped again, huh?

Once his revenge was extracted, the soldier-in-training hauled himself to his feet (or rather, so he toddered on one foot) and brushed himself off. Since his native friend so kindly left his pack behind, Scyeth had no change of clothes and did not fancy the idea of getting all wet, especially in this cold. Which gave the teenager a thought. (It was strange, having a good idea on occasion.)

"...what if going to the water meant we have to cross it?" he pointed out, frowning a little. "I mean, I'm not particularly keen on crossing the foot hills, but if we get to the water and there's no way but around, wouldn't that...take longer?" Okay, so maybe the idea sounded better in his head, but he had to voice his opinion anyways. (Honestly, what sort of soldier fell down, broke their ankle and then failed to direct the rest of his crew?) "Besides if we need water, I-" A frown and a glare shot in Canaan's direction. It wasn't like the demon particularly needed water, he liked to think, being from the desert, he had adapted to survive without for period of time. What he did need, however, was heat, and there was no accounting for the needs of his teammates. "Well, did anyone else bring water? Mine's back in the fog somewhere."