Duck Lake come back to me

He watched her from the bank in silence. Each step she took was so careful, but he still felt a sense of danger and had to resist the urge to run to her aid - she was far lighter than himself and any help he offered would have only hampered whatever she was doing or, most likely, caused the ice to split and both of them to sink in to the frozen oblivion of the lake. So he stood there watching despite feeling a great need to be near to her — Larus didn't know why he lingered for so long.

When Laurel began to lift and pounce at the ice, the sound of her paws and her full weight driving against the surface made an odd sound. Each time he winced (a little like he was trying to avoid being hit with a snowball) although he was in no danger himself; soon the ice began to splinter away beneath her efforts and the Sveijarn could not stop himself from creeping closer, curious and worried for her. Each step invigorated him. He felt bolder than usual, if that makes any sense, but still the young man did not cross on to the ice the way Laurel did.

He managed to test the lake's edge with his front paws but he kept his rear paws firmly settled on solid ground, his tail puffed and twitching at his hocks as a clear sign of apprehension. Although he did not want to disturb her, Larus didn't want to startle her either — so he called out, Miss Laurel? and then with a little more concern in his voice, What are you doing? The magic of the moment was broken temporarily while Larus worried over the safety of his new friend; he wanted her off the ice - he wanted her closer to him - but it was such an odd thought that he pointedly ignored it.