The wind howls through the jagged peaks of the Misty Mountains, each gust piercing the frigid air like a blade. The snowstorm arrived swiftly, catching you and Elrond in its icy grip as you navigated the treacherous path. The world around you is a blur of white, the snow falling so thickly that you can scarcely see a few paces ahead. The cold bites at your face, your breath turning to frost as it escapes your lips.

Elrond, walking beside you, glances at the sky, his sharp eyes scanning the tumultuous heavens. "We must seek refuge," he calls over the roar of the wind, his voice carrying a tone of authority tempered with concern. He moves closer to you, his presence a warm contrast to the chill that surrounds you. "This storm will not pass quickly, and we would do well to find a place to wait it out."

You nod in agreement, trusting his wisdom implicitly. He takes the lead, guiding you with sure steps along the narrow path. His hand, firm and reassuring, finds yours, helping you stay steady on the slick ground. As you press on, the storm only grows fiercer, the wind driving the snow into your face, making it nearly impossible to see.

After what feels like an eternity, Elrond suddenly stops. "There," he says, pointing to a shadowed cleft in the rock face a short distance ahead. It's a small cave, barely noticeable against the whitewashed landscape, but it promises shelter from the storm. Relief washes over you as you both hurry toward it.

Inside, the cave is cold and dark, but it's a welcome respite from the relentless storm outside. The walls are rough-hewn, offering little comfort, yet the mere absence of the biting wind is enough to make the space feel almost cozy. Elrond swiftly sets to work, gathering bits of dry wood and kindling that have somehow found their way into the cave. With practiced ease, he strikes a flint, coaxing a small flame to life. The fire flickers, casting a warm glow that slowly begins to push back the cold.

Elrond turns to you, his eyes soft with concern. "Are you unharmed?"