The chill mountain air whipped around the young man's head, biting and stinging at his features. He'd taken care to pull the hood of his cheap cloth cape tightly about his head, held there by an equally poor-quality scarf, but even so the raging gusts that billowed through the peaks of the Alterac mountains were sharp enough to cut right down to the soul. Right. And riding a horse takes what? Class? The duo crested a rise and Doorknocker pulled up on the reins of his steed. Resting his horse momentarily, he drew back the mail coif from his head and scratched through the light leather under-cap.