Svartis's eyes narrowed, if only in strangely paternal concern (because, damn, he's got a bunch of kids and now he feels like he has to mother everyone now) and tilted his head, "... we don't have to go in the snow if you don't want to... ? I'm sure that thing'll come out eventually." If they, two fairly large dragons could barely withstand the storm, then whatever creature inside couldn't, right?

It checked out.

Anyways - "I guess that makes sense? Like bouncing back." He wasn't sure how having magic ruined or stolen would help make it better, but... that'd be revealed with time.

He briefly wondered about if the owl-thing were dangerous or malicious in any way; like if it were stealing magic for a nefarious purpose. Svartis urged their current wall to grow a little taller and wider - a bit like half an igloo. "We'll find your fire! Or maybe someone can - light it again?" That seemed altogether too poetic. "Or you. Have you tried breathing it, since?"

@Dread

Dread didn't seem particularly set on either going in, or staying out, instead huddling near the barrier and considering Svartis' words.

"I tried!" Twin spurts of black smoke twined up from his nostrils in a snort. "Nothing happened!" He sounded annoyed at this--not at his son's asking, or even having to answer, but that his fire didn't come when called.

As for whether the thing would come out? Dread pushed far upright and peered over the ice barrier, eyes near-closed against the storm.

"It's still out there," he told his son; "...moving."

Not toward, or away, but... around. He couldn't tell what it was; it looked like a... a long cat, or something. Actually, it sort of... "...Looks like the thing you fought. But with a messed-up face," he clarified, and then hissed into the snow.

@Svartis

Svartis's fins flared up higher, mostly reacting to the sudden annoyance than any prior inclinations. Completely gone? Icy eyes blinked. "Oh," he rumbled quietly, "I'm sorry." It was genuine, too - his own icy breath was just as important to him as his claws and teeth. It was an extension of oneself. Dread wasn't a fire dragon without his... well, fire.

"We'll figure it out - let's look for the owl-thing's cave instead? I think the wall's this way... ?" The dragon's head tilted towards their left, but he didn't move. His senses were all out of order.

Then... he froze - in a less literal sense. Ah, right, the thing he fought. No need to name off the Alpha. "Does it?" he laughed nervously, and started to shuffle towards the direction he'd just indicated, "if it's not moving closer, there isn't much point to sticking around, I don't think. Fire first, so we can signal it?"

Assuming it wasn't the Alpha, lurking somewhere beyond this wall of snow.

@Dread

At the suggestion, Dread fired (ha) Svartis a faintly resentful, reluctant look.

"Fire doesn't work," he reiterated, rather upset by all this. "Watch."

Dread concentrated, and faint warmth flickered up around him. It wasn't even heat, and it certainly wasn't fire; it could barely even be called warmth, really. It was just... a little bit, slightly, less cold.

"I don't think it will notice that. Pick a way. I will go with you," he insisted. Then he nodded off, forward, through the snow; he knew that Emuh's cave was on the northern face of Polaris, just a small divot compared to the size of Polaris itself: but the whole north of this cave was full of snow. "I think it was that way," he suggested, but he didn't seem bothered, one way or another, about finding it.

It was likely the cold getting to him: he was somewhat miserable, quiet and dull. Dread was most certainly not an ice dragon.

@Svartis

Svartis blinked. He didn't say - oh. Faint heat-shimmers rolled around Dread, but there wasn't any incandescent orange-glow like before a cast. "Right, yeah." Icy eyes looked worriedly at his father. The poor guy looked... more than kind of miserable. A lot, actually. Being in the cold couldn't possibly be helping.

The black dragon's brain worked in double-time. His father'd come here in search of the owl-thing and the cave, but wasn't all that dedicated to it now? He was just following along. Svartis surreptitiously thought, I'll just lead him out of it all. They could wait out the cold, maybe go somewhere warmer - that might help? His ice was always lacking in warmer caves: the opposite could be said for fire... ?

"Let's go that way, then," and off he went, practically wing-crawling with the strength of the storm. Svartis led them parallel to the ward-stones for a while, and started, "it'll be easier to see from outside, I think." Along the way, though, he conjured up an idea from an old magic practice partner - the little white lion-stag. Magic worked, focusing on the snow surrounding them...

... then, nothing. Ugh. Too much of an ice dragon.

@Dread

Dread rumbled, deep in his chest, shaking himself intently like a dog spraying off water, as if trying to be rid of the snow. He didn't really take note of where Svartis was leading him--he hadn't been intending to go into the cold to begin with, after all. It was rather a fruitless endeavor, but still, it was good to be around family--even in strange places.

He glanced at Svartis, and then pushed his magicka in another direction: food. Golden food. That made you sparkle gold. It was always too small to really make a meal of, but it was a token of his care for Svartis: and he picked it up from where it'd immediately plopped into the snow, and offered it out in his teeth.

"FR UOO," he tried to explain, waving the banana at his son.

@Svartis

Well, jeez - if Svartis'd known that Dread wanted to just have family time, they could've picked somewhere more temperature-appropriate.

Regardless, they got out of the worst of the storm, and his dad was offering a nice banana in these trying times. Icy eyes blinked slowly as he failed to immediately parse the offering, before nodding. "Oh, thanks, dad!" Svartis chirped, craning his neck to accept the banana. It went down with a few crunches (some halfhearted grimaces at the taste of the peel) and a whole lot of golden glow dancing across his scales.

Surprisingly beautiful for being caused by a seemingly-random fruit.

"Hm, I want to try something - follow me?" Svartis plodded out of the storm and into the calming stillness outside. Once Dread'd followed him out, he lowered his snout to the snow. Azizos had done this with some ice, he thought - it was still control of ice... just in the opposite direction - ah-ha!

The top layer of snow sloughed off into water, then into lukewarm puffs of steam. Icy eyes glanced to Dread, looking a bit like an eager puppy. "How's that?" Still wet, but warm, at least? Svartis wouldn't stay in it for very long of his own accord, but for the time being - to maintain it - he'd endure it.

@Dread

Dread followed along, spines slowly pricking up at the sudden influx of steam. He blinked, lifting his head, sniffing around.

"Did you do that?" he asked, and his guileless honesty prompted a piece of genuine complement, no intent of fatherly reassurance behind it: "That is very good! It's strong. Warm," he added, as a content after thought. Oh, and his manners--
"Thank you."

His magic, at least, felt a little stronger now. A little more secure. He would rest: warm himself, and watch the snow.

"I USED TOO MUCH MAGIC. Do you want to stay here?" It wasn't the best explanation of things, but it was something. And--
"Bone is here somewhere. I think Carja. I don't know where Blight or Asimona are!" ...Or Bug, but... she'd gone her own way, lately, anyway.

@Svartis

Icy eyes brightened as Svartis nodded — yes, that'd been him, and it helps, right? Dread continued, and his own fins raised up, genuinely chuffed. "I learned it from this... deer-creature, not all that far from here, actually," Svartis blinked, ah, right, "you're welcome, Dad."

"Do you want to stay here?" The black dragon tilted his head first, but bobbed it in a single nod, "sure!" He twisted around in an immediate search for somewhere to lie down. His tail swept through the snow, exposing the chilled ground underneath. Hm.

Asimona wasn't around here? "That's surprising. Mom not being here, I mean." She was even more at home in the snow than he was. "Maybe she hasn't caught wind of it yet?" Svartis shrugged lightly, voice pitching up at his silly, very stupid pun.

Ugh, dad humor.

@Dread

Dread stared, for a very long moment, at Svartis. And then, loudly (and after only a minute or so had passed), he asked--"Was that a joke? About wind?" It wasn't demanding; on the contrary, it was uncertain. The dragon wasn't sure if he should... laugh.

Dread didn't laugh very often. He certainly didn't joke.

As for Asimona--"But maybe you are right! I don't know if she knows. Or if it matters. It is just snow. I don't like it because it's cold. I just want MY FIRE BACK."

A short thrash of his tail, and he glowered off toward Emuh's cave; another annoyed twinned tendril of smoke slithered up from flared nostrils. Then he looked to Svartis. "You can't move the ice?" he asked--and again it was not demanding; on the contrary, it was sudden, confused curiosity. He'd never tried to "move" fire before; Bone could do that, he thought, but he'd never bothered to try. As an ice dragon, could Svartis not move snow-?

He tried to imagine it: the black dragon flicking his snout, a drift of snow flying in the other direction. Was it not possible-? Dread's ember eyes narrowed in thought, his head moving slightly, wings shifting to face him more toward Svartis. It wasn't about moving the whole storm away--but the idea itself had caught him, now.

@Svartis