Witch's Marsh Relax, turn around and take my hand

A soft, but strangly slow laugh escaped the wolf's mouth, a wry smirk complimenting it. "Let me help you then, love." The vixen managed to cautiously step onto the slippery terrain, while looking as though she did it without any precaution. Her gleeming eyes didn't leave the smokey girl, and continued to flawlessly travel across the ice, though not without effort, all while mainting her salacious saunter. Finally reaching the stranger, she lowered her muzzle down to their neck and breathed for a moment by her ear. 

She pushed her snout underneath her first leg without warning and attempted to lift it somewhat, to allow her some support.