Silver Creek two-toed sloths cannot shiver to stay warm

He took no offense that she had saw him and laughed. He was a wolf who could laugh at himself as much as the situation, and that his prey was swiped out from in front of him by a hawk was as amusing as it was unlikely. It spoke to the desperation of those who lay beneath the blanket of famine. The bird had risked its own feathers in trying to sink its talons into the hare. Had Rexxar not been so keyed in on the lagomorph, he may have been able to seize the winged animal instead, but such was life.

"Sansa," he echoed with a warm smile, committing the name to memory, pairing it with her friendly face. She invited him along with her to the river, and he bobbed his head in acceptance. "I'd like that," he answered. He enjoyed the feel of water against his skin, and though he was no master fisher, he had tried his paws at it enough that perhaps he would have some luck there indeed. "Lead the way," he said as he stepped toward her and stood astride her.