A trail of dirty brown slush loops and twists through this ice field. Patched of spiky hoar frost grows up from the compacted snow in a beautifully ornate blanket. Tiny snowflakes dance on the gusts of wind in flurries before being dropped onto drifts that gather here and there. This path commands a good view of the ice plains to the northeast and is heavily traversed. It is bitterly cold out here on the glacier and the wind cuts unabated across the stark landscape. The sky is black and the stars shine down brightly. The waning half moon shines down. Fluffy white clouds drift lazily overhead.