Gyrfalcon's Keep Would you just come home

Wylla's lips twitched into a thin, tight line as she watched Wraen drop into the snow and roll like it was no big deal. Well, it wasn't. Every wolf in the world knew how to drop to the ground and roll, and so did a coarse and salty little wench like Wylla. She watched flatly as Wraen demonstrated, and then ground out a rough, "that's not what I meant."

Deciding there was no point in trying to elaborate, Wylla dropped dully into the snow next to Wraen and began to shuffle her messed shoulders into it. By now the bird crap had begun to dry along the edges, so though she came away with much of it smeared into the snow instead, there was nothing to be done about the bits matted in. It would require the sea's touch, and Wylla was already too cold for a dip. She turned her head sidelong to Wraen and, with a frown, asked, "you don't have anything better to be doing?"

She didn't mean it rudely but it sure came out that way.