There's no direct answer from Harrow as he snuffles around in the snow, and Matt struggles to focus on any clues he can get from their surroundings. They'd been following an actual established path before, he's pretty sure, even with the constantly shifting layer of powder settling on top making it difficult for his sharp ears to pick out the differences. But this is starting to feel more wild, less compacted beneath his feet, and he stamps his feet a little to confirm, and to keep warm as they wait for the next signal.

The snow's getting deeper by the minute, blowing and drifting in irregular heaps, and Matt can only feel thankful that he doesn't hear the solid shapes of huddled bodies lying covered by the snowbanks. But Harrow, it seems, has finally caught a whiff of something, setting off at a somewhat slower pace, nose as close to the snow as he can get it without getting snow up his nostrils. Matt grabs at Kinner's arm and tugs him to get his attention, following in the tracker's wake.

One thing's for sure, somewhere along the way, they've gotten turned around and pointed away from the Plaza. No wonder the kids never turned up in all this mess.

"When we find them," Daredevil says to Kinner, raising his voice to be heard above the wind, "what'll be the safest way to get them back?" He's the arctic expert, he should know that, right?