Asmodeus growled through clenched teeth as a shiver ran through him, huddling close to the fire he was trying to stoke higher. He curled his wings in closer, trying not to bend them too much; the cold made the tears and cracks achy and itchy. If the air was dry enough, sometimes the tears would worsen and bleed. Typically, he had a salve to relieve the ache and keep them from drying out, but he hadn't packed enough and the weather had gotten too cold for travel. He was simply going to have to wait it out until morning.
As the warmth seeped into his bones, Asmodeus began to relax and settle in for the night. The cave was doing its job keeping out the wind, and while still too dry, the fire eased the ache in his wings enough that he could fold them back up without too much pain. He used his tail to toss another stick into the fire, then settled down beside it. The warmth, the crackling of the fire, the sound of the wind howling outside... all of it it was making his eyes droop, weary from the long day. Tomorrow would be better; he'd wait until mid-morning, when the sun had a chance to raise the temperature, and hopefully the wind wouldn't be so bad. He'd get Malphas to help apply the balm to his wings, paying special attention around the areas where the membrane was torn and scarred over. It would've been a whole lot easier if he had a familiar with opposable thumbs like a raccoon, but he'd made do well enough with a bat who was loyal.
And when it came down to it, that's all that really mattered.
