A winter storm is not always a blizzard. Sometimes they do not drop heavy snow or drift it up in to dangerous and deep traps. They can be wind that blows hard and cold and turns everything smooth and sharp. Or driving white-outs where the snow seems to fall up. This one has no snow at all, but a wind that feels like a knife blade at all one’s joints and rain that is almost ice. That rain freezes on everything it touches and in the forest tree branches heavy with ice and freezing too fast are breaking. Limbs snap and fall, trunks split with a gunshot crack.
Head bowed and ears laced flat he moves with as much speed as the wind and cold will permit. He'd meant to escape the forest before the storm worsened but there is no chance of that now and its only just begun. Though he makes his home in Hyaline the climb will be impossible in this and so the stallion is forced to seek the best possible nearby shelter. There is a moment where that looks like it might be beneath the trunk of a too narrow fallen tree propped up by its grudging neighbor. A miserable excuse for protection that might fall on him more easily than keep the freezing rain from his skin.
The wind pauses just long enough for him to blink burning and dry green eyes and make out a rocky darkness a short way forward. It appears far better an option that a pair of trees and so he drags himself forward through the ice hardened snow that scrapes at his limbs. Aldric flounders some, up to his chest in an old drift before his necks anxious step strikes stone. Stumbling up over buried rock and stone he finds that the supposed shelter is little more than a rock overhang. It serves to cut the wind and keep all but the most awry raindrops away if he tucks himself in tightly an turns his face toward the cold stone. It's a shallow overhang and not ideal but the wind howls through the trees and the rain is coating everything in an savage later of ice.