Silvertip Mountain I will personally stab you in the eye with a foreign object

Tap me if you mind the PP, Gerra. :)

The normally cheerful Tambourine straggled near the back of the group, casting yearning glances backward over his shoulder every five minutes. He felt like he had left a piece of himself back in Marauder's Keep. Would he ever see it again? Would he ever see Stark or Banner again? These thoughts made his chest feel strangely hollow. Despite his mother's death, he had never really experienced loss before and didn't know how to process all of these negative emotions.

That wasn't to say he was totally down in the dumps. He couldn't help but be curious about Reek and the rest of his ragtag band. There was also a part of him that was excited to see more of the world. It was just that these feelings were largely overshadowed by his sadness right now—that, and the overwhelmingly frigid bite to the air. Tambourine was so preoccupied with fighting to stay warm, he really couldn't pay much attention to anyone else around him, save perhaps for Silas.

The boys bumped shoulders as the weather worsened and Reek led them into a cave. It was only when they were shuffling inside and settling that Tambourine felt some blessed relief from the aching cold. As his body warmed, however, his feet remained strangely numb. He bent to chew the ice from between his toes and tried to wiggle them to no avail. They didn't actually hurt or anything, though, so he just left them alone to peer around the cave.

He watched and listened to the others for a moment, then scooted closer to Silas and put his head over the slope of his companion's back. Tambourine meant to keep observing the goings-on in their makeshift shelter but his eyes began to flutter and drift closed.