Marrgash makes his way through the snowy hills at a slow plod, the cold seeping through to his bones. He pulls his cloak tight around him, trying to keep what body warmth he could, but his cold blooded nature left his body an icy chill. He used his new staff as a walking stick, unfamiliar with it's use in combat but relieved to have it to lean upon and help lend him balance through the snow.
"Next time, let's embark on a quest of relaxing on a sunny beach and watching the waves roll on to the shore," he muttered, "I am ill suited to this chill."
He's quick to follow Caim into the cave, keen to be out of the cold wind.