The snow spiralled all around them, wind tugging at what little warmth they still felt. Siara trudged onwards, her body now feeling so numb that she wasn't feeling the pain as much. She knew that it was a mixed blessing. She was getting cold enough that she was now in the danger zone, but at least she could keep up more easily with Jacquelyn, though she was also struggling. Neither of them were certain how much further they could get, which wasn't good. They'd managed to find a few campsites, but they hadn't yet managed to catch up with the others. Their situation was getting desperate. Another cough escaped Siara, blood once again coming out. She looked at the red stain grimly before wiping it away. It was then that Jacquelyn collapsed. Siara hurried to catch up to her, kneeling down in the snow.

"Now is not a good time for a rest, Trevelyan."

"I cannot continue," Jacquelyn forced out, her eyes barely open, her chest heaving. "I am too weak."

"You're gonna be too dead if you don't get up and start moving again."

"What part of I cannot do you not understand?"

"If you have enough energy to snap at me, then you have enough energy to walk."

Siara stood up, holding a hand down to Jacquelyn, hauling her once more to her feet. It was getting annoying, always helping the noble woman. But Siara didn't see any other option, flinging the woman's arm over her shoulder. She immediately started struggling under the weight, something that she was prepared for, but still not appreciative of. There was no way that this could be kept up for long, Siara knew that. She was almost as weak as Jacquelyn. More than likely it was simple stubbornness that kept Siara going where Jacquelyn couldn't.

"We'll find somewhere more sheltered for you to rest," Siara had to yell slightly to be heard above the wind. "Then I'll go find help. That last campsite was still warm, everyone else can't be that far on ahead."

"And if you do not succeed?" Jacquelyn challenged. "What if you are lost to the storm?"

"Then we're both as good as dead anyway."

"You do not waste your words, do you?"

As if to prove Jacquelyn's point, Siara didn't reply.

On they stumbled, Siara keeping her eyes peeled for a spot to leave Jacquelyn. The Herald was rapidly losing what little strength she still had, all her concentration going towards keeping her feet moving. The snow was getting deeper the longer they walked, their tracks already lost behind them. It was luck that Siara spotted the cave nearby. It wasn't a deep cave, only just deep enough to protect Jacquelyn from the worst of the wind and snow.

"Stay here," Siara ordered as she helped Jacquelyn into a more comfortable position, though less uncomfortable may have been more accurate. "Hopefully I'll be back soon."

"May the Maker guide and protect you."

For once Jacquelyn sounded sincere in her words, catching Siara by surprise. The Herald got a quick half smile in reply.

"Don't die," she said, then vanished once more into the snow, putting up an arm to try and protect her face from it as it fell, trying to improve her vision as much as she could. She slipped and fell multiple times along the way, her body getting progressively colder, not that she had thought it was possible. And yet, somehow, the cold didn't bother her. Not as much as it should have.

"I must be insane," she muttered to herself, pushing onwards, "risking my ass for her."

But still onwards she went, the tips of her ears turning purple, every breath she took stinging. Part of her was thankful for the change of armour, even if it still wasn't the warmest in the world. It was certainly more covering than her own. If she got through this, she'd have to make some changes in design to her normal stuff. Though the longer she walked without finding anyone, the more she wondered if she was going to manage to make it through. If Jacquelyn was going to make it through.

"Commander!" Jim came running through the camp, almost tripping as he turned the corner too fast, failing to notice the rope holding the tent down. "Commander, it's the Blade. The Blade is here."

Cullen looked up at Jim, standing from his stretcher, the pile of maps he'd been looking at falling to the ground.

"Is anyone with her?" he demanded, his thoughts immediately going to Jacquelyn. Jim shook his head.

"No, Ser, but –"

"Take me to her."

Jim nodded.

"Of course, Commander."

Cullen's mind swam as he was led through the tents, never actually able to hold on to any of his thoughts for more than a moment before it was gone again, replaced by an even darker thought. By memories that he'd much rather be forgetting.

"I'm fine! Get the hell off me!"

The voice was definitely familiar, as snarky as it ever could be, but with an edge of… something… something that Cullen wasn't sure he'd ever hear of Siara's voice. He hurried his footsteps, now able to follow the sound of Siara's objectionable voice through the tents. She stood in what had been temporarily become a medical tent, the injured getting checked over, Siara standing at the edge of it glaring at one of the sisters who was trying to get her to sit down and be tended. The elf certainly looked like she needed it. From one short glance, Cullen could tell she wasn't putting any weight on her left leg, and her hair was obviously matted by blood at the back of her head. There was a graze on the side of her face, her ears looked frozen, and by the Maker, she looked exhausted.

"You need your wounds tended to," the sister was insisting. "At the very least we need to warm you up. This weather is atrocious."

"I can wait! Jacquelyn can't!"

"Where is she?" Cullen demanded, marching up to them. Siara turned to face him, her eyes as tired as the rest of her, but still with that determined glint in them.

"I left her up the mountain," she said. "She was too weak to continue, and I couldn't support her any further. She's injured. Very injured. She needs help, and she needs it now."

"James," Cullen called, Jim only just having caught up, "get Cassandra and a couple of men. We're going up the mountain, now."

"Yes, ser."

"I'm coming with you."

Cullen turned back to Siara, almost scowling.

"No, you're not. You're also injured."

"I don't give a shit about that! Give me a health potion and I'll be fine. I have to make sure that Jacquelyn is okay."

"You'll only slow us down."

"I won't."

"You're not putting any weight on your leg, Siara," Cullen snapped, "and you only just got out of this storm."

"I'm going, Cullen, and there's nothing you can do to stop me. Best thing you can do is give me something to keep me going so I don't fall behind or slow you down," Siara glared at him. "You're not stopping me."

For a moment the Commander just looked at her, disbelieving. Irritated. Short tempered, more so than he had any right to be. But he could see the determination in Siara's eyes. He knew that she was right. Sure, he could have her arrested, put under guard, but it was Siara. He was almost certain that she'd gotten more injured than this in the past and managed to escape despite it. There was very little he could do to stop her. He sighed, the fight leaving him. At least on this matter.

"Give her a health potion," he ordered.

"But, Commander –"

"She'll report in as soon as she gets back. Won't you, Siara?"

There was no room for argument in his tone, and Siara nodded.

"Of course."

The sister didn't look happy, but did as she was ordered, heading off and finding the requested potion. When she came back, she not only had the potion, but a cloak as well. Siara nodded her thanks, unstopping the potion and downing it before wrapping the cloak around her. The sister turned to Cullen.

"Make sure she doesn't make herself any worse."

"He's not my mother," Siara muttered. "I can look after myself."

"I can see that."

The sister looked less than impressed, but Cullen just nodded.

"Come on," he ordered, already striding away. Siara followed after him, her boots pattering quietly on the ground, though she seemed slightly shakey as she walked. At least her leg was more weight-bearing that it was, though she still walked with a limp. Cullen sighed again as he glanced down at her.

"Don't make me regret this," he muttered.

"If something happens to me, Rutherford, the only person to be blamed is me."

"I doubt that sister would agree."

"She'd get over it."

Cullen shook his head. He'd never understand Siara.