Permafrost Hollows locked up, naked with socks

The further into the Taiga they venture, the colder it gets. Zephyr is unusually high-spirited as he drifts slightly ahead of @Kratos, steps silent against the snow-patched ground. Spring may be looming, but the taste of winter is still in the air here, and for now the wraith is content. The stretch of forest ahead catches his attention. He glances back once before his pace speeds up, and he notices the shift in the air as he enters the woodland. He slows, waiting for Kratos.
It smells like... He can't find the word for it when he addresses his mate. It smells like ice and stone, like him, but that doesn't occur to him. All he can think is that it smells like home. He presses forward after a few moments without waiting for Kratos, pursuing the source of the cold.