Whitebark Stream michelle, ma belle

The girl paced through the winterscape, occasionally sliding this way or that when her paws did not quite grip the slick snow's crust. She was used to being alone, surely, but this group felt different; somehow. Lennon, Alarian and the pale girl seemed to share a strong bond, while the red-faced girl that was at once stunning and entirely intimidating. Then there was Lily, and while it would have been hard for her many glances to have gone unnoticed, she doubted the interest was mutual. Quite simply, she felt like the odd one out, the add-on. And while they had been welcoming, Lainie didn't quite feel that she fit. They were happy and serene and close and she was -

  She didn't quite notice the ice until her forepaws punched through it, and a loud, automatic shit rent the stillness. Nor did she notice Lily until she awkwardly tried to pull herself free, punching through more of the ice in the process until she ended up a little further downstream, drenched and clearly in the line of sight of the dark girl. She blinked, freezing where she was and uttering a soft oh no, not daring to look back at the awful mess she'd made of the ice (and likely the girl's fishing venture).