[As a child of light, Aurora is fairly immune to cold. She's run around ice caverns barefoot before and not minded. That doesn't mean the same thing is true for Zara, of course, and she looks at him in concern, hovering just a foot off the ground, her near translucent wings flicking rapidly.]

The wind grows fearsome. Some form of respite we must find, or dear friend, this weather will turn you to ice in kind.