Survival Against the Odds - The Ice that Bites

And out somewhere in the cold, merciless peaks of the accursed Misty Mountains, home to few travellers and fraught with peril and danger at every turn, were two Elves, fighting against the cold in the Middle of nowehere, facing the frosty winds that blew on their faces like cold knives...
Daerundros gritted her teeth. She could literally see nowhere beyond this thick veil of snow and ice, as the wind whipped against them violently. Ruihel stood next to her, hand on shoulder to keep sight of Daerundros, squinting and covering her crystal blue eyes to shield herself from the snow. The blizzard was so ruthless and violent, the ice impossible to see through, that Daerundros was afraid they might walk into a tree at any given moment.
"What does a troll from the Trollshaws have to do here...?" Ruihel yelled loudly, the wind whistling in their ears too powerful for a mere whisper to be told.
"Trolls lurk in the darkest of caverns in these mountains!" Daerundros replied with equal measure. She could feel how her hair rose and fell and how her cloak, and her clothing, fluttered in the wind with loud beating, "It would find some of it's brethren. I daresay I would like to hunt a few more!"
Daerundros smirked at the latter comment, finding it highly amusing for no particular reason, but she gritted her teeth as she began feeling how the wind pushed so strongly against her that she was sliding against the snow.
One step, two step, one step, two step. Daerundros continued in this rhythm as she battled against the harsh wind, covering her face with her hood as she saw numerous tiny flakes flying towards her face, battering her with cold, snow, and ice. Her clothes felt wet and she felt idiotic: Why on earth did they give chase in such thin garbs? Handalóra. Daerundros cursed in her mind as they trodded on.
Up and down they went this way and that, in an endless maze where you could just about not see anything at all. Daerundros felt like they were walking in circles: the wind directions were constantly changing, and they always seemed to leave a curving trail of footprints behind them. The snow was ankle deep and rock hard at the bottom: If you did not take care, you could find yourself slipping on the icey surface that was hidden beneath.
Stomping through the mass of ice and snow, it felt like hours until at last the blizzard seemed to have cleared somewhat. Just then Daerundros had realized that they were indeed walking in circles on top of a Hill.
"Are you not feeling cold, young one?" After all the patronizing Daerundros regarded Ruihel in a more contemptous manner now. She would not stand for being treated like a child by someone who was around fifty times younger than her. Even despite the numerous times that Minyelaírë insulted her pride, violated her honour, and spat on her capabilities in such ways that she nearly felt nothing even to the worst of insults, there was nothing quite like being treated like a youth.
There was no answer from Ruihel, and Daerundros grew slightly worried.
"Dear? Are you with me?" Daerundros asked uncertainly, "Or are your lips sealed from the cold?"
Still no answer. Daerundros grunted as they continued treading through the winter nightmare, shivering, cold, and wishing for a fire. Suddenly, Ruihel's voice rang up in a question.
"Are you not feeling cold?"
"Of course I am!" What a silly question! After having asked two times and getting no response out of the Silvan Elf, Daerundros felt slightly irritated. She remembered to keep herself calm however. This was supposed to be handled professionally. There was no time for little things nor ridiculous little ramblings.
"I-I thought it would bleed out before it got here. Brr." Daerundros could practically hear Ruihel's teeth clattering together repeatedly as she stated her sentence. Concerned for the Elf's well-being, She reached for her pack and drew out a long but thin blanket and threw it in Ruihel's direction. As the Silvan Elf caught the blanket, smiled, and thanked Daerundros, the Noldo-maiden was already scanning the bottom of the Hillside.
Yet even the sharp Elven eyes of hers could not pierce through the thick veil of fog as she scanned down below her for any sign of a building, or for any solid surface. The only thing she could determine was that the hillside was rather steep.
Daerundros became aware that she was standing on a rather fragile piece of ice as she stepped down in a slow descent.
"It appears we must treck through this are--"
Crack.
"--Ah!" There was a large, cracking noise as the ice below Daerundros' feet cracked and began sliding down.
"Daerundros!" Ruihel called from somewhere. Slipping on it and feeling dazed, she raised herself up: The next thing she knew, she was speeding down the Hillside at a rapid speed, the trees and the snow becoming blurry to her eyes and the snow now ramming itself against her skin. It was a near-death ride for her. Down and down she went with her ice-board, and it seemed forever until she would slow down.
A boulder rapidly came into Daerundros' view and she gasped. She had a second to react until she would collide with the boulder and come out looking like a mess, so she did the only sensible thing possible: Pushing down with her feet against the rear end of the ice-board and raising the front end with her hands, she felt herself spinning rapidly as she came to a stop a few feet from the boulder itself. Shaken and anxious, there was another noise as behind her Ruihel came to a full-halt beside Daerundros, having followed her down the hill.
There was an ooof noise as Ruihel landed in the snow, looking roughed up with her hair sticking up and snow covering most of her body, "Are you all right?"
Slightly shocked, Daerundros breathed out sharply as she propped herself up on her elbows. Taking a good look, she noted the tracks left by the ice-slab from her sliding adventure. They were perfectly neat and clean. Beside them lay Ruihel's tracks, equally clean, although one could notice some hand and footprints from where Ruihel had touched the snow. On the field her own silver arrows lay scattered and peppered into the ground. Her bow was lying several feet away from her, thankfully undamaged. Rapidly standing up and gaining balance, Daerundros shot up like an arrow released as she hurriedly sprinted (tumbling a few times due to her slightly dizzy feeling) around gathering her weapons, what remained of both Elves' provisions, and blankets and supplies.
Beside her Ruihel had just stood up, walking rather unbalanced on her left foot.
"Oh... not good." Ruihel sighted. With a poof and a bit of flying snow she was sitting in the snow again.
Curses. Are we to be stranded here forever? What of our mounts?! Daerundros started to murmur curses in Quenya as she watched Ruihel trying to balance herself on both feet.
The Ice bit deep, but Daerundros looked on, hoping, praying, that they would soon be released from this terrible storm.