"I do my best," Sitwell replied as he steadied himself in the brittle snow and got used to the chill of being upright and locomotive. The sled was way better. From his seat, he unburied the binoculars he had tucked in his cocoon to get a better look at their destination. Very Norse, flat and dark and geometric, unaffected but for the massive black pits of windows that would have faced into the courtyard had they not been covered from the inside. Nothing moved, not on the castle or around it. Sitwell wasn't surprised; if he was a polar bear, he'd avoid slinking around a vampires' nest, too, even during daylight.
Except he wasn't a polar bear, he was an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and had to get slinking. "Looks empty," he noted as he traded out the binoculars for his combat pack and toddled (very respectably) toward the closest dog to scratch his ears and explain, "Not a sound. You're a good dog. You be quiet."