Silver Creek two-toed sloths cannot shiver to stay warm

He didn’t seem too off-put by her inappropriate humor which came as a relief to Sansa. Typically the opinions of others mattered very little to her, but the man in front of her was a pack mate. She needed to be well liked if she hoped to ever be successful there. She met his sapphire gaze, grinning impishly at his words. “I did,” she admitted. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make fun of you. That’s just… really crappy.”
 
She felt bad for him, though. His tall frame appeared withered, a wasted remnant of a once-strong creature. Saena had informed her about the locust plight that had stripped the land of its life. She could see the terrible effects the prey shortage had had on her smoke-furred pack mate.
 
“It’s a pleasure, Rexxar. I’m Sansa,” she rejoined, her tail swaying gently against her haunches. “And I admire your optimism. Come on,” she said, gesturing with her muzzle in the direction she’d originally been headed. “I was going to the river to cool off. Maybe you’ll have better luck there.” The Eta pivoted but swung her muzzle 'round to see if Rexxar would take her up on her offer.