Open The Frost Fair of 1765

[Caden S. Freemont]

Caden shook paws with Lorcan and greeted Kinza when she arrived. The pair were full of the vigor and optimism of youth, and Caden could not help but to envy them slightly. He could not remember the last time he felt such things. It was not that he was a particularly pessimistic beast, but the cards he had been dealt in life from a young age had led to a less than sunny disposition in regards to his experience of existence.

Daniil's comments did nothing to help with his musings. At mention of Vaelora, Caden subconsciously shifted his weight away from Daniil, and when the todd wiped ice from his shoulder, the marten had to stop himself from flinching. Despite his efforts to maintain a steady composure, his expression took on a momentary wince before he rallied.

"Yes, of course, dinner and stories would be delightful. I don't have quite so many naval stories to tell, as I've been a staunch landlubber most of my life. My mother never could convince me that life at sea was better than having solid ground beneath one's footpaws." He chuckled and shrugged. "But I have a few good ones from my years marching up and down the Varangian continent."

 

[Orina Emberkin]

Orina smirked bemusedly at the little lizard. As Amnesty addressed her, the Minister shifted her weight more fully onto the prosthetic limb, causing several of the gears to whir and the articulating joints to give off soft clicks. She pulled up her pant leg slightly for the lizard's benefit to show her where the prosthetic connected with the extant portion of her leg.

"See? I've got some leather padding there between the metal and my leg. I don't feel the cold much there, thankfully." Dropping the pant leg back over the joint, she addressed Amnesty. "Innovation knows its craft well. I've benefited from knowing some of the best and brightest craftsbeasts in the Imperium who have kept me on my footpaws over the years, so-to-speak." She winked her blue eye.

"I hope you're both enjoying the festivities. And please, do try some of the soup and bread." Her piercing gaze swung back to Cricket. "Perhaps try seeing it less as charity and more as a way to celebrate the season, hm?"

 

[FinnianBrightfur]

Woodlander Coalition Forces (WCF) [ 17 HP ]	Vulpine Supremacists [ 19 HP ]	Chaos Goblins [ 3 HP ]	Poor Bystanders [ 2 HP ]
Finnian [ 1 / 3 HP ] (-1)	1x NPC [ 1 / 24 HP ] (-13, Fleeing)	Korya [ 3 / 3 HP ]	Dr. Amatis [ 0 / 3 HP ] (-2)
Calara [ 0 / 3 HP ] (-3)		Griblo [ 0 / 3 HP ] (-1)
Evva [ 1 / 3 HP ] (-1)
NPC/Rabbit [ 1 / 3 HP ]
(2x) NPC/Stoat Twins [ 4 / 6 HP ]
(2x) NPC/Ferret Siblings [ 2 / 6 HP ] (-1)
Swifttail [ 3 / 3 HP ]
Willow [ 1 / 3 HP ] (-1, Stunned)
Freya [ 5 / 3 HP ] (-1, +3/Bezerk)

Leading the charge, Finn didn't look back to urge on his troops -- he knew morale was strong, and believed in their courage. The volume of fire coming from all sides told him the vulpinists time was short. Snowballs lanced through the air across the field, some fragmenting mid flight from the ferocity behind them. A flutter of motion caught his eye, and glancing up, Finn saw the mortars arcing gracefully across the pitch black sky.

The assault on the fort was brutal, and the vulpinists confidence was shaken. Half the remaining group cowered behind the snow wall, paws covering their ears in hopes to keep the snow out. "UP! Up! Fight you cowards! It's just filthy woodlanders!" cried the ring leader, kicking at the cowering foxes. A massive ball of slush caught him right in the side of his head, splashing into his ear. He gave a mounful wail, and clutched his head with his paws. "Aaaahh!! Braiin freeeeeezeee!"

But even with defeat at paw, the vulpinists managed to throw out a volley. One of the ferrett siblings caught a snowball in the muzzle and went down -- and Evva and Freya suffered similar fates, catching snowballs aimed at the center of mass. (Not to mention poor Willow, who for perfectly understandable reasons would be singing Soprano for a short time.)

Others began to overtake him in the charge, shouting out various battle cries. (Finn thought he heard one calling out for the University. Given that no student ever loved school, Finn deduced it must have been a teacher. Strange, he'd never pictured a stuffy teacher taking part in a snowball fight!) A bezerk wildcat charged headlong to the fort, appearing entirely unphased by the snowball that pelted her muzzle. Joined by Evva, the two hefted entire sections of the wall, burying two foxes in mounds of wet snow.

And then, Korya streaked past him (in every possible sense of the word). Finn gawked. What mad beast wou--PIFF. And then, Finn caught a wild snowball under his chin, and was sent reeling. Though Finn was too dazed to see the point-blank carnage taking place, he could hear the shreiks and wails of foxes getting snow stuffed down their shirts.

The battle was won. A cheer broke out from the Woodlander Coalition Forces as the vulpinists retreated from the fort and fled into the night. As fate would have it, they would all catch colds the following day -- a stern lesson... for daring to take on the Woodlanders of the Frost Fair.

 

[Ruffano Quickwhistle]

Ruffano drew back from the kiss with a twinkle in his eye that flickered like candlelight in the falling snow. Pomodu’s bashful giggle and her soft, delighted "Danuku" earned a gentle laugh from him in return. He inclined his head to her with easy sincerity, one paw settling briefly over his chest.

"Ah, you’re so welcome, sweet Pom," he said warmly. "It’s an honor to share in such a lovely tradition with you."

With a final smile, Ruffano’s attention widened once again to include the small knot of beasts gathered beneath the lamplight and mistletoe.

"And I must say," he continued, tone bright and genuine, "the Fair has been an absolute delight, at least in my eyes. Joy everywhere one turns. Though..."

He huffed a small, theatrical breath through his nose and lifted one paw to idly squeeze the warming pad tucked beneath his arm, the gesture both practical and faintly comic.

"...I do rather wish it were warmer."

A grin followed, quick and disarming, as he glanced between them.

"Spiced cider sounds simply wonderful after such a wholesome moment," he added. "Would any of you care to join me?"

 

[Griblo Jankweed]

Griblo stayed planted beside Frost Fang, boots half-sunk in churned slush, breath tearing out of him in harsh white bursts as he kept one frozen paw braced against her shoulder.

She was a marvel. A menace. A natural disaster with whiskers.

“Aye, aye, just like that,” he barked hoarsely, eyes tracking the chaos beyond the snowbank. “Little more left... no, yer other left! Hear that hollerin’? That’s ‘em! Send it!”

Snowballs flew. Impacts thudded. Somewhere foxes yelped in outrage.

For a brief, glorious stretch of time, Griblo felt in control again, righteous fury sharpening into something almost competent. Cold be damned, he was doing something about it.

And then Frost Fang stopped throwing.

Griblo opened his mouth to shout another correction just in time to see her hands go not for snow...

...but to rapidly begin tearing off her clothing!

“Ell’s teeth, ’ave ye no decency!?”

“Hush it,” she snapped, already yanking fabric up and over her head. “I’m going camouflage!”

Korya then hurtled off into the snowbank like a lunatic spirit of winter given paws and poor impulse control, leaving a pile of snow-covered fabric at Griblo's feet.

“Camo!? Ye frostbitten feline, get back ’ere!”

Griblo lunged after her, but every step was agony. Slush squelched into his boots. Melt water soaked through his trousers. The cold, no longer held at bay by adrenaline alone, sank its claws deep and personal. His breath hitched. His legs screamed.

“Oi! Frost Fang! This ain’t camouflage, this is...!”

Griblo made it another step. Then another. Then his knees buckled.

He hit the snow hard, lungs burning as he sucked in air that felt like knives. From where he lay, half-sprawled and shaking, he could only watch as the fight surged onward without him.

He saw Frost Fang erupt from the snow like a possessed thing. He saw her hit the fort. Snow detonated. Walls collapsed. Foxes shrieked and scattered as chaos swallowed the structure whole. The noise crested, then broke, and the vulpinists were running.

Cheers went up.

Griblo dragged himself onto one elbow, eyes flashing with fury as he shook a fist toward the celebrating Woodlanders.

“Oh quit yer cheerin’!” he rasped. “I ain’t done wit’ you yet!”

No one listened.

His strength gave out. He sagged back into the snow, a violent shiver finally ripping through him as the cold claimed its due.

“Aw gates…” he muttered bitterly. “Why’s it always me…?”

With a growl, Griblo forced himself upright again and staggered toward the ruins of the fort, waving an arm and shouting with what little voice he had left.

“Oi! Frost Fang!” he barked. “It’s o’er! Stoppit! Hear me! It’s...”

PIFF.

A snowball slammed straight into his face. AGAIN.

 

[SwifttailTheFox]

Snow flew thick and fast. Swifttail stayed in the action, boots crunching and sliding as he worked the edge of the fray, scooping and throwing with joyous ease. Another snowball left his paw in a clean arc, then another, his body loose and warm despite the cold, breath puffing in steady bursts.

A volley streaked overhead. Swifttail ducked, laughed, and packed more snow, ready to send it right back.

Then his ears perked as a sudden, familiar melody filled the frigid air from nearby. Music threaded through the chaos, clear and lilting where everything else was noise. Swifttail froze mid-pack as the lyrics reached him.

That voice.

His head turned, eyes searching through the churn of bodies and flying snow until he spotted him at last: Silvertongue, lute in paw, dancing and singing like the battlefield was a stage built just for him.

Swifttail’s grin bloomed instantly.

"Mate! There you are!"

They’d planned to meet at the fair around this time. Swift, feeling nostalgic for the snow and cold had come early, wandered, waited, and let the fair carry him along. Though, he hadn’t really expected to be found like this.

Before he could fully react, however, a volley of snow cut through the air and struck Silvertongue in a brutal series of hits. The bard went down in a flurry of white.

Swifttail immediately was at his toddfriend's side, the fight forgotten as he crossed the churned ground in a few quick strides. He dropped beside Silvertongue, one paw already brushing snow from his face while the other checked the lute where it lay half-buried.

“Well,” he said lightly, breathless but smiling, “that’s one way t’ end a number.”

He offered a steady paw. “C’mon. Up you get. Ye’ still got all yer teeth?”

As he helped Silvertongue sit upright, a shrill shout cut across the battlefield. Swifttail glanced up just in time to see it.

A naked brown blur had launched herself headlong toward the fort, while a ferret-shaped popsicle wailed at her ineffectively.

His eyes widened a fraction.

"Stars above!”

The blur vanished into the snowbank. A heartbeat later the fort erupted, its walls collapsing, snow exploding outward, and the vulpinist foxes scattering in every direction. The noise crested and broke, cheers rising as the fight concluded in righteous victory.

Swifttail looked back to Silvertongue, amusement and warmth still bright in his eyes.

“Right,” he said, adjusting Silvie’s grip on the lute and helping him stand. “I think that’s our cue t’ relocate.”

He tipped his muzzle toward the lantern-lit edge of the fair, where steam and spice curled invitingly into the cold night.

“C’mon,” he added with a grin. “Spiced cider. On me!”

 

[Korya]

"Rawrghwwr! RrrrRRRrrrRRRRrrr! I'm a snowbeast! Cowards! Come back and finish the job!"

They'd stopped attacking her with kicks and snow clumps (no time to pack a ball at melee range!) and fled in the wake of Freya's cry and destructive size. Korya lay in wait under the rubble; a new target...? A large target. She cackled in her throat, waiting for the perfect moment to surprise her shipmate. She'd rolled on her belly and rose to her knees, making a space beneath herself to collect ammunition, still hidden under the layers of snow the foxes had piled on her.

Muffled cheering, and a momentary silence suggested the fort had been fully deserted, the war was over... For them. For Frost Fang, war never ended.

Heaps of snow piled atop her, she rose from the wreckage of the fort. Piff! Poff! Smush! Smack! Her snowballs flew, clipping Freya, and then another noise, another BlackShip crewbeast, assistant purser... Alliances always broke eventually in war, she decided.

He just made it so easy.

Korya fell backwards, laughing and flinging snow with all four limbs at her shipmates, her tail thrashing like a dying snake.

"Oof, best birthday ever," she wheezed. "Wish I could see the looks on your faces!" Apparently face-looks were a source of extra amusement. It was hard to imagine.

She stretched out and yawned, sinking into the fort's wreckage. A little shiver crept up her spine, but it was nothing. It was nice just to let the cold seep in for once, to feel the eternal heat of her little body dissipate and become one with the world of winter. Deep inside the little leopard cat was a stillness that yearned to be free, ever caged in a whirlwind of chaotic teenaged Northland energy. Now that energy was nearly fully spent, for once.

"...anybeast seen my clothes and my pokey-stick that Cryle made me?"

 

[Kinza Rainclaw]

Another cousin! Kinza beamed at their newfound family member, wondering which branch of the tree they were on, and swiftly showed the same welcome to Caden. At once she had to stuff down the impulse to bring up the nickname her father had given young Caden in one of his stories. It was hard to imagine the marten before her as being a bloodthirsty little terror, even with his scars. There was mention of Daniil's mother, which had Kinza curious as to whom he meant, especially when she caught the brief shift in expression on Caden's face. What could it mean? Yet here they were offering the possibility of learning more, with an invite to dinner!

"That would be grand! If ye'd be happy ter have us, I'd love to hear everything! We can tell you about the Croper's trip and a bunch about Kutoroka, too."

The sheer noise coming from the not-too-distant snowball fight caught her attention for a moment.

"'Ere, wozzat somebeast yellin' BlackShip? Sounds like they need a gobful o' snow!"

@Lorcan Rainclaw @Daniil Ryalor @Caden S. Freemont ​

 

[Callisto Bluemoon]

“Indeed she is,” Callisto chuckled to Zara’s observation. For now, with his offer accepted, he elected to shelve too many of the machinations which would come with it. Tonight was a night for forging those connections and getting to know the beasts of the Imperium: though nigh impossible to turn off the innate businessbeast within, he could at least assure himself that such matters would all come in good time.

Ruffano’s praise for the fair, likewise, went some way to form a reassurance he hadn’t known he was so oft needing. Frost fairs were fickle and difficult to anticipate thus is had been ambitious to throw his money and energy into this as his initial celebration. Sounds of merriment and chaos settled over the ice as though in a layer of its own, swathing the scene alongside warm light and rich scents to bolster the atmosphere of good feeling. Callisto was not oft given to such sensibilities himself, but it was infectious.

“That sounds marvelous,” the wolverine agreed, amusement shining in his own eyes to see Ruffano complain of the cold. For his own part he was content for the weather to hang about: summer was going to take getting used to. “I could certainly go for a drink. Ladies, would you care to join us?”

@Ruffano Quickwhistle @Zara Raposa @Pomodu lu Modokunomulo


-----


Slowly, oh so slowly, success seemed to come to them. The little…whatever it was, he really couldn’t say with absolute certainty, released its hold to deal with the frankly obscene amount of powder it had taken. In other circumstances such tenacity would have been noted as genuinely impressive.

At once the oft-pristine sable withdrew a good pace or so, ready to boot the snotty, sneezing little demon away from his cloak should it propel itself in his direction. Though it had been an act, a demonstration, a…whatever this scheme was, there was no denying that the wretched little creature was in a league of its own. Though he could not foresee what manner of scenario would require him to make use of a beast like that he made note regardless. Watermelon makes a good bribe; avoid the pointy end.

Expression settling back into practiced impassivity, Matisse watched the thing make its exit and inclined his head back to the diminutive weasel once she had sidled closer, muzzle twitching with amusement. To think, him of all beasts, warding off evils. “Perfectly safe,” he chuckled, unclipping the pouch to show the jill the contents for her own inspection. “It’s only styptic powder, designed to clot blood and good for misclipped claws. If anything, it’s probably rather useful for your, hm, under-robe area, considering. Though you might want to burn the robe altogether once that thing’s stink gets in the weave.” A jiggle of the paw offered the pouch to her. “I’d be happy to exchange the lot for one of those talismans, you know. Seems a shame not to have some memento of a day like this.”

@Nevali

 

[Lorcan Rainclaw]

Lorcan was not as astute in recognising the facial shifts in Caden, nor to think overly much on matters of the family tree. He had, since first arriving, learned that said family tree was more akin to a tangled, overgrown thicket: impenetrably complex and often thorny. Easier, then, to simply absorb what relations were explained and think little of it until such a time as necessary. The machinations of those older or more distant than himself were not of his concern, and certainly not today.

On delay he realised that the “we” referred to between Daniil and Caden was weighted with far more meaning than initially presumed. His brush fluffed, though he could not put a paw on why and was rather embarrassed to have made such a gesture. After all, uncle Kip had brought more-than-friends over before.

Quick to tuck his tail in, hoping neither would take offense at his surprise, the awkward todd flashed a smile as well. To have more connections in Bully would be advantageous from a practical standpoint, but emotionally it just felt good to be invited without the spectre of their parents’ interference. “Aye, I’d like that and all. Kutoroka wasn’t the most excitin’ place to grow up, but I’m sure there’s a few old tales. Be interested to hear about Varangia and all.”

Never one for subtlety, Lorcan whirled about at the mention of a snowball fight, expression quizzical as he sought out the action. Why would beasts want to get any colder flinging that stuff at one another?!

@Caden S. Freemont @Daniil Ryalor @Kinza Rainclaw

-----

Phew. At the very least she wasn’t about to be immediately lectured or threatened with the Fogeys. Though squirrel and vixen were both adults, and thus difficult to trust let alone like, this fact alone did raise them in her estimation. Perhaps they weren’t so bad after all; perhaps it was the spirit of the season. Either way she wasn’t about to complain, and narrow shoulders relaxed beneath the welcome cosiness of Eskila’s singed cloak. As the off-white fox spoke, she took the opportunity to crouch a little to get a better look at Orina’s leg. Never ashamed to be forward about her curiosity, the crested gecko ogled the marvel of prosthetics with fascination. How beasts were clever enough to come up with something like that and make it work she couldn’t possibly fathom.

Minister. Had she the facial structure possessed of brows to furrow, they would have. Cogs turned slowly in the kit’s mind as recognition trickled down gradually. No, couldn’t be: all she’d been taught were Ministers were the sort to rarely make public appearances, let alone without oodles of guards and protection. Couldn’t be an actual, real live Minister was here? Near her? Psht. Some beasts were as good at bluff as she was, or the fox was mistaken.

Whoever she was, she engendered immediate authority. Cricket wilted beneath the squirrel’s pointed stare, mind frozen for a second as her long tail coiled in either embarrassment or anxiety. “Well, you know, ain’t much of a season to celebrate when you’re cold blooded on the street…marm.” A hesitation had followed, dredging up what manners she could afford. Another pause when her gaze slid to Amnesty. “Uh…Marms. Didn’ mean to be rude, jus’…”

Something else clicked, then, fuzzy though it was. There weren’t many squirrels with her fur patterning and street life had made recognition a must. The little gecko fell silent, mouth half-open as she wrestled with how to express what she wanted to say. Had this been the acrobatic blur of fur from the Opera House? The one she’d espied standing outside the building as she had fled the scene? She hadn’t been a Minister then, what was going on? What had the Opera incident even been about and would she get in trouble for asking? Did she know Finnian, or Jeshal, or any of the others from that night?

She opened her jaws to summarise the many questions, offering thus: “Whzrrfrimbt!?!?”

@Amnesty Greysoul @Orina Emberkin

 

[Silvertongue Songfox]

Silvertongue looked up breathlessly as Swifttail came to his rescue. He vaguely had an idea of the chaos he had walked into- some sort of snowball fight, that seemingly had ended as soon as he had arrived. Silvertongue wasn't sure if he was lucky or not that he had missed out on the fun, but regardless, he smiled warmly as Swifttail helped him up and suggested cider. "Swiftie, that's a wonderful idea."

Hooking one arm around Swifttails, he clipped his lute onto his belt as he walked, turning to him with a smile. As always, he felt a song coming on, and who would he be to deny his own namesake?

"Swiftie, when I met you, it felt like peace unknown.
I set out to get you with a fine-tooth comb.
I was soft inside,
There was something going on"

Silvertongue started to gently sway back and forth, taking Swifttail's paw in his own and resting his head on his partner's shoulder.

"You do something to me that I can't explain.
Hold me closer, and I feel no pain.
Every beat of my heart,
We got something going on"

Suddenly, he took both of Swifttail's paws and lead him along in a dance, waltzing back and forth as he continued the song.

"Islands in the stream,
That is what we are.
No one in between,
How can we be wrong?
Sail away with me,
To another dawn.
And we rely on each other, uh-huh,
From one sailor to another, uh-huh."

Before he could continue the song, however, Silvertongue slipped on the slick ground, this time bringing both him and Swifttail down. Thankfully, there were plenty of snowbanks to cushion their fall. Silvertongue took the brunt of it as Swifttail landed on top of him. Silvertongue grunted and let out a pained laugh. "Oof, are you okay, mate?" He leaned up and rubbed his nose against Swifttails.

 

[Irene Rightsbeast]

Run! Run! Irene run! Come on out to play!
All dibbuns will be merry on this snowy winter day!

Don't you fear to slip and fall when you have a paw to hold!
Everyone is merrier when there are more, hey!

No kit fears the snow or ice, frost winds or the cold,
You are no lizard or a chicken, that's what your fur is for, hey!



Irene hummed to herself as she ran into the crowded fair. She was covered from the tips of her ears to the pads of her footpaws in seemingly any clothes she could find. Her black coat went down to her knees, which covered another one which was a little shorter and also in a much worse state. The rest of her clothing was in a similar style, not that Irene had a fashion sense or that anybeast would consider it a possible fashion style. What was important to the vixen is that, first, if she ran enough and didn't think about it too much, she didn't feel the cold all over her body. And second off, her covering had pockets, a lot of them, and many deep ones. Pockets were very useful, especially deep ones. And especially ones where other people couldn't see there was something in them. She wished she had more of them before, but she also wanted to have more of them now and whenever she got the chance she will get more clothes that had more pockets. but that was a problem that a future Irene will figure out better.

The Irene in the present found herself, after days of running through bully harbor, in a large cheerful gathering of all sorts of beasts. Some of them looked very important, some of them even looked powerful. They certainly had something she could find useful, but they were all in crowds and not distracted enough. She hoped that none of those adults were going to interrupt her like all the other addults she ever met did when she was doing something important. That would be very annoying. And very troublesome. She already needed to dodge strangers all around her like they were snowballs, she felt like bumping into one of them could ruin everything.

She came upon a more open area, where obvious signs of a snowball fight littered all around. Some beasts were cheering happily, others were running away. Something about the sight gripped Irene's heart and caused a lump to form in her throat. It was too soon, just thinking of playing brought her back to that day, and she couldn't think about it, not now.

She spotted a pile of clothes abandoned in the snow, and a stick poaking out a leap or so away. Her mood immediately brightened up. There was plenty of damage on both sides of this snowball fight, many things must have been dropped or lost in some other way. She couldn't find much use in that stick, and the clothes were way too wet and frigid to wear, but they were worth a lot more to whoever lost them, they might even pay gilders for them!

The thief quickly got to work. Nobody was looking at her it seems, they tended to the fallen or were celebrating their victory. She found various other trinkets, including a few toys, a warm bag that she quickly put on, a silver pocket watch and a few gilders. Then she spotted a ferret, trodding towards a ruinned snow fort before he was hit by another snowball. The fighting wasn't done yet, bad news since, as Irene learned, anyone within range was a valid target in these sorts of situations. She sprinted to the mustelid, grabbing him by his shoulder and lightly shoving her paw in his pocket. He would be too distracted by the innocent contact with his shoulder to notice the less innocent and less invasive one on the other side of his body.

"Sir, are you doing ok?"

She was actually worried for the ferret, who knows how he will handle being drenched in icy water all over his body. Once she has gotten whatever her claws just wrapped around in her pocket, she will yell for a healer.

"A beast needs help here...he's very cold!"

@Griblo Jankweed

 

[Pomodu lu Modokunomulo]

Pomodu's blush only intensified at Ruffano's fond words, and she needed a moment to compose herself before she could address the invitation. "Ye'su, I go wi'tu you- oh." She looked down at the massive sack of presents as yet to be given out, weighing what was to be done with these. Given there was a lull in the proceedings, she decided to tie up the sack and, reaching up on her tiptoes, pushed it up onto the roof of a nearby two-story building, where it hung precariously. "Okay," she agreed, "we go now! Ahso, wha'tu i'su di'su 'ciduh'?"

@Ruffano Quickwhistle @Zara Raposa @Callisto Bluemoon

~~~

Daniil beamed at his newfound cousins, delighted by their interest in a more formal family gathering. Granted, he'd heard rumblings about a formal Ryalor family dinner for a while now, a possibility that filled him with dread; any event in which he was measured against the successes of his family was bound to be personally humiliating. However, a quiet dinner with family and friends sounded like just the thing after the nightmare he'd made of his first mission as an Unsmudgeable.

He turned to follow their gaze as a snowball fight took off in earnest, and his tail twitched nervously, nearly sending him to the ice again. "Maybe we should move away from the commotion," he suggested to Caden. "I've never been fond of being pelted with snow, if I'm being honest."

@Caden S. Freemont @Kinza Rainclaw @Lorcan Rainclaw