Grace clutched her tiny light sword, trying to ignore how stupid it looked. The cold had settled deep in her bones now, making her teeth chatter like they were trying to escape her mouth.
"Are we getting closer?" she whispered.
"Maybe."
A little while later.
"Are we getting closer?"
"Probably."
A few minutes passed.
"Are we-"
"GRACE!" Seraph barked out. "If anything YOU should tell ME if we're getting closer. You're the one who feels cold, right?"
"Oh, uh, well... the temperature hasn't changed or anything. I still feel just as cold."
"Then, either we aren't getting closer, or..." She thought about it.
Suddenly, Seraph held up a hand, signaling for silence.
She crouched low, her massive muscles tensing like coiled springs. Grace tried to copy her pose and nearly fell over when her oversized breastplate slid sideways.
[Great start, Grace. Real intimidating.]