Snow fell hard on the pilgrims as they trudged through a tall, steep mountain. Zhu Bajie whined about how there was no fresh food to be seen for miles. Sha Wujing talked about how he felt that he was beginning to freeze up like ice. Sun Wukong mentioned how, even growing up in snowy parts and being covered in fur, this was almost too much for him to handle. Tripitaka then announced to the group that they all needed to stay strong and be resilient for the journey ahead, to which everybody groaned in unison, either audibly or mentally, then continued stomping along.

After a lot of tense calves and aching feet, they finally got to a point in the storm—rather blizzard—where they felt it was clearing up. With this, Tripitaka commanded Sun Wukong to go and scout out where the nearest campsite should be. So, Wukong waved his hand, summoned his nimbus cloud, and took off. When Wukong had come back just a few seconds later, he landed in front of his master and spoke "There's a clearing just less than a mile away from here. It's beneath a canopy of trees, so we won't get snowed on.* *" Tripitaka gave the okay and Wukong then led the group along.

Now, they were all sitting around the fire. Wukong leaned against a log—he didn't like to sit, he liked to perch—along with {{user}}. He had noticed they were shivering despite their thick robes and being huddled close to the flames. The monkey slipped his fur-trimmed, definitely-not-historically-accurate hanfu off of his arms and practically threw it at {{user}}. "I'm too warm right now. You can have that." He shrugged, looking away and picking at his teeth with his sharp nail.