With their intended path now closed to them, the fellowship had no choice but to continue upon their way at dusk and make for Caradhras. Mallenheneth remained aloft in the air from that moment on, constantly scanning the skies for movement of spies or enemies as the crebain had flown south upon the setting of the sun, for they could not see much at night. It was a small comfort, but there plenty other beasts to be wary of, least of all wolves whose howling voices could sometimes be heard carrying upon the wind. Mallenheneth was able to judge their number and distance from these howls, and placed them too far away to be a threat, however in the twilight of morning when the moon was at its lowest, a creature flew near to the company below as they made their way over a path Aragorn had found.
Its shadow blotted out the few stars that remained as the pale light of morning began to rise, however Mallenheneth had already seen it from afar and had risen upwards in the air so that it did not take note of her presence, flying through the cover of a cloud before then tucking in her wings tightly and diving directly for it. A hawk had been following the group below, its essence wavering with malicious intentions but even as it veered away to take word to its master, the hawk was unaware of the doom that descended upon it. Mallenheneth screeched at the last moment, her larger form crashing against the hawk with talons curling around its neck and her beak tearing into one of its wings as they then spiralled from the air. Frodo jerked in alarm, having noticed the shape of something in the sky but now stared as two forms tumbled to the ground, fighting and screeching rather awfully.
At the last moment Mallenheneth opened her wings and flapped, pulling at the air in order to slow her descent and land with the hawk beneath her dying in her clutches as she broke its neck and silenced its voice forever. Ruffling her feathers, her piercing eyes turned towards the fellowship who looked upon her, startled by this unexpected turn until Gandalf spoke quietly to her. "As appreciated as your guardianship is, Mallenheneth, perhaps next time you could try to make less noise when dealing with spies." Clicking her beak at the wizard, Mallenheneth huffed in a temper owing to hunger and aching wings, as well as her efforts going not properly appreciated. One less spy now served the enemy, and their position remained a secret, though little thanks she received. She flew off without a word, leaving someone else to hide the dead hawk that she had killed for their sake.
The closer they came upon the mountains, the colder and bitterer the weather grew until even Mallenheneth began to feel a slight chill. Her wings would become frosted and often heavier because of the snow and ice, forcing her to fly lower in order to keep them from freezing completely until eventually she was made to abandon the air and instead take to the ground, her large frame climbing the slopes of the mountain with the hobbits grasping hold of her tail to help pull themselves up the steep ascent. Again, most were drawn to Mallenheneth for her warmth, even as their cloaks and coats became damp with snow as it fell from the silver-grey clouds that soon became indistinguishable from the haze of sleet and snow that descended upon them. Soon enough the hobbits were crouched underneath Mallenheneth, using her body as a shield against the onslaught of the blizzard as she bowed her head and surged forwards through the rising banks of snow.
It reminded her of the time she had first met Aragorn upon these very same mountains, how the snow had fallen so thick and fast that it was impossible to know where the path led. It was nostalgic but did not offer her comfort for Mallenheneth disliked this sort of weather that dulled her senses and tested her might. This was an unnatural blizzard, for there was a taste of darkness in the air that soured Mallenheneth's tongue, the weather being driven to lash against them even when they were not yet halfway to their goal. "This is what I feared, what do you say now, Aragorn?" Gandalf questioned as he too was laden with snow that gathered upon him. Only Legolas seemed unaffected, able to walk upon the snow drifts with his light footedness though his usual cheery demeanour was dampened by the circumstance.
"That I feared it too, but less than other things. I knew the risk of snow, though it seldom falls heavily so far south, save high up in the mountains. But we are not high yet; we are still far down, where the paths are usually open all the winter."
"I wonder if this is a contrivance of the enemy." Turning her head upon hearing Boromir speak, Mallenheneth's black coat was now almost completely white for the snow that clung to her. "They say in my land that he can govern the storms in the Mountains of Shadow that stand upon the borders of Mordor. He has strange powers and many allies."
"His arm has grown long indeed if he can draw snow down from the North to trouble us here three hundred leagues away." Gimli noted, not knowing how correct he was for Gandalf only noted that his arm had indeed grown long. The snow had lessened a little whilst the company had halted, the magic in the air easing but returned with even greater fury almost the moment they attempted to continue forwards. Mallenheneth soon had to lead the way, using her senses to find the path and her huge frame to carve through the snow for the others to follow, for she was the strongest of the group and could more effortlessly create the path they required though the further they went, the more difficult it became. She started to dig her way through, pawing at the snow to force it away so that their trek could continue until it seemed utterly hopeless. There was a discussion, Mallenheneth could not fully recall what was said or even hear them, for the voices upon the wind that cackled and howled were testing her temper. It was decided that they would all halt where they were for the time being as the cliff face was the only shelter they would have even if they continued forwards or turned back, and so everyone pressed their backs as far as they could into the cliff face. Here Mallenheneth transformed, and the hobbits were overjoyed and almost wept as her body grew large and feathery with small flickers of flames that danced upon her as she burst with the warmth that they deeply desired, and all pressed their hands into her feathers to warm themselves.
Spreading her wings, Mallenheneth ducked her head as the snow struck upon her back and a few stones were pushed at their position to fall from above, but none struck her, so for the time being all was well enough. Even Boromir could no longer hold against his stubbornness and drew closed to Mallenheneth's warmth, secretly marvelling at the beautiful creature that he had never seen before. Aragorn explained to those who did not know that this form was one from Mallenheneth's own lands, a rare and glorious creature that dwelled in gaseous mountains which burst with fire where they built their nests. To listen to such a story was a welcome distraction as Mallenheneth closed her eyes with her wings curled around the entire group, warming them as the snow gradually melted around her and the ice upon the walls became water which they drank from, for all were dreadfully thirsty.
There they were able to sleep in warmth without fear of freezing to death, though some worried that Mallenheneth's bright form would draw the attention of spies. "If there are any watchers that can endure this storm, then they can see us, firebird or no. Unless you wish for Mallenheneth to draw away and change shape into something less conspicuous, I suggest you all get some rest and be thankful that she is enduring the cold upon her back for our sake." Gandalf's simple assessment was enough for the others to accept being visible in favour of continuing in warmth. Even Bill the Pony was laid down between Mallenheneth's great talons with her feathers directly upon his back, eyes closed and breathing lazily as gradually, the snores of others gradually joined him.