Although it's obvious that several of those in the party are anxious, Sif only finds the situation... nostalgic? The familiarity of their circumstance--scuttling along through the snow in the dark--isn't really important at the moment, merely another piece of her personal puzzle to be filed away later and sorted through in less life-threatening setting.

That doesn't mean she isn't on high alert. She extends her senses as far as they will go, peering into the dark. Now that she's not soaked and floundering, the cold doesn't bite so savagely, but the wind makes it hard to hear the things that might be lurking in the dark.

As a precautionary measure, Sif positions herself at the perimeter of the group, sword in hand. She'll act as a shield for now. Anything that comes at them will have to get through her before it can reach those closer to the center.