Ink goes to get in the carriage, he says, "Given last night, I'm riding in here all day - my shoulder is still recovering from that gash."

Ink will spend the day reading his book on transfiguration with great care. When they stop for the evening, he'll cast as a ritual Find Familiar. 

"Rip, th' one thing we learned at Noaner's Hold is ye  can't control th' curse, it controls you. Yer  family won't like th' price yer  payin' Fer their freedom."

"look I know you're right, but what if I'm not strong enough to save them? Like with those people in Noaners hold? If i can't even save strangers what hope do my children have?" Rip looks rather somber "what if we fail? what would I become then? something far worse then a werewolf I fear"

"We'll get 'em back lad. We got Harshnag on our side, an' our own means as well. Better ta do it as yerself."

Marav places a hand on RIp's shoulder. "You aren't alone, you have friends, we will get it done. Besides if you need a wolf, I am a scarier wolf."  He grins.

Crownsguard nods, “I am also here for you, but I will let you guys have your moment.”

“It’s been longer than a moment,” calls Harshnag over his shoulder, from the lead position.

Ink peeks his head through one of the carriage's windows and says, "No - Rip is a much scarier wolf. Love you, Rip!" 

He closes the curtain and goes back to reading.

Ink sticks his head out again, stating, "Yes, Harshnag is quite right. As much as the curse inspires my curiosity, remove the damn thing Flint and let's get a move on. We have Giant All Father's to meet and halfling families to save."

Flint again prepares to cast remove curse "Ready?"

"lets do this!" Rip braces "wait, will this hurt? never mind do it"

At Flint’s touch and verbal blessing, Rip’s desire for rare meat is severely lessened, and he suddenly feels a whole lot of aches and bruises. 

"ouch, it did hurt. feels like i've been punched in the face... a lot"

Crownsguard begins whistling. It is very robotic.

"hey, you learned to whistle! good work crownsguard."

The next two days following Harshnag are difficult, as the early Uktar weather grows colder, especially here, in the shadow of the Spine of the World. The wheels of the wagon clatter off the rocks of the frozen dirt trail, and the clattering sound travels into the cold air and is lost. 

The sharp, icy peaks glare down at you as you traverse the wide, desolate valley, and in the evening of the next day (Uktar 1) and following morning, freezing rain falls diagonally, carried into your face by the wind, seeming to hit your face no matter which direction you turn. It is enough to make any miserable as the cold water seeps into your boots and soaks your heavy clothing and then freezes.

// Make sure to account for your rations and water these three days, including the horses. Keeping the horses from hypothermia is also going to be a challenge—how do you keep them warm? //

“The mountain pass is around here somewhere,” says Harshnag, who is (of course) completely unfazed by the cold, even though frosty icicles have formed in his beard.

As both Crownsguard and Horse are immune to the effects of hunger and cold, it is a fine, jolly trip for them. However, Crownsguard will assist the others in any way he can, such as using his Lay on Hands to keep everyone unharmed.

Flint bought some tent canvas in everlund, he'll use it as a windbreak when we're stopped ND as a horse blanket when needed otherwise.

Ink notes that we have 29 rations left to be used (how many do we go through those three days?). Ink suggests that as Ink can cast Leomund's Tiny Hut and control the temperature inside regardless of the weather outside. Given that he suggests they use their extra layers to keep the horses warm under the tents Flint built.

// If you’re just eating the rations, it’s one ration per person per day. You’ve been on the road for 3 days now. //

The river Mirar flows through the Valley Khedrun, and has so far provided ample (though frigid) water for drinking. But towards the end of Uktar 2, three days total into your uphill trek from Mirabar, Harshnag uncovers an overgrown trail; remnants of an ancient, gigantic stone path have sunken here into the tundra. “This is it,” he says to you. “This is the pass to the Eye of the All-Father. It will be more difficult trip ahead of us—taking the carriage into the mountains might not be the best idea. The horses should be able to make the climb.”