The cave was, miraculously, empty — save for some rather large bear droppings that would stink to high heaven when burned, but would be used as a last resort. The den-like hideaway shielded them from the worst of the wind, at least, so Fallon couldn't complain too much. Without the wind blistering her face she could think more clearly, and each thought was more frightening than the last.

If they were in the tundra, then there was little hope of finding civilization and managing to get home. Lachlan was right in this regard, not that Fallon was about to inform him of that. If she could find a piece of wood, a twig even, she could charm it into a broom. Granted, the broom likely wouldn't get them far, but it would be easier than walking across the snow. However, if they weren't in the tundra, then someone had to be nearby. Be it the person who forced her into coming here (someone had dropped the key under her badge to begin with, after all) or a random muggle village. There had to be something, otherwise she and Lachlan were doomed.

Fallon remained silent as she worked and got a fire going for them. The tips of her fingers were already beginning to turn blue. Fuck. The little fabric they had between them had already been charmed into being warmer clothes. Fallon couldn't pick a pair of gloves out of thin air, not even the strongest wizard could.

"It should be light, soon," she stated quietly after peeking at her pocket watch. It was nearing three in the morning. Surely, if they were anywhere near the poles it would already be light out. Unless they were in Antarctica, at which point Fallon would just decide to keel over and die. "You should rest for a bit. As soon as it's light we'll have a better idea of where we are." She hoped.