Max shook his head at the offer to enchant his shovel, then stopped because of the way it made the flaps on his hat whip about. "In my experience, it's not wise to depend on magic for mundane things. There can be a steep price tag." 

He considered for a moment, fully aware of how dangerous this situation was, before sighing. "I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Remind me not to tell my mother about this." With that, the tall man bent his head and stepped through the portal to the snowbound street, shovel tightly clamped in his gloved hands.

The cold hit him immediately, the wind feeling like a gale of needles against his skin. He breathed in involuntarily in shock, then regretted it immediately- the air itself was so cold that just breathing it in felt like a knife in the lungs. The worst winters in Seattle were never this bad. Hell, the winters when he was studying in Minsk and Saint Petersburg hadn't been this bad (though the haze of vodka and Baltika might have colored his memory). Max' teeth began to chatter, and he instinctively hugged himself as the cold cut through even his heavy clothing. Though his head felt absolutely fine. Maybe there was something to be said for the foxy hat.

Still, he was here to do a job. Lifting his scarf to cover his nose and mouth, Max unfolded his shovel and began the work of clearing a path through the drifts towards the house they had been shown in the scrying crystal. Too much was at stake for him to stand there and shiver- with unlit furnaces and coats deep in closets, it seemed likely unsuspecting locals might freeze in their homes if this went on. Max eventually fell into a groove with the digging and began to make slow but steady progress towards the house, edging towards the front door.