Duck Lake come back to me

I think I'm gonna roll a 1d6 to see if he breaks the ice. Odds he doesn't, Even he does. Exact number will be the extent of the damage. Result: 4

It was entirely possible that Larus had assigned himself a stupid, dangerous, and wholly terrible job as the girl agreed, but it didn't occur to him until he had carefully taken up position where she had been standing only moments before. The sheet of ice creaked and moaned whether he stood on it or not (he could hear it, with the sun beaming down and causing the lake's topmost edge to shine and melt). Larus looked to Laurel for a second or two as he gathered his wits, then placed his broad paws across the segment of ice she had previously been trying to break apart. It barely moved beneath his initial weight.

Okay, uh... One, two, three, on that count he lurched up from his forepaws and connected with the ice, his claws scraping dully at the surface, but the punch made a deep sound reverberate beneath him. The ice did not give way however. Um, trying that again I guess, Larus thought; his ears flicked back against his head in a brief show of uncertainty. Then he repositioned and lunged again, and again, growing a bit more confident with each attempt — until something gave way and there was a deep thunk as his final punch landed, going through the layer of ice with both his forelimbs.

Larus was taken by surprise as his paws met the sheer cold of the water. They plunged up to the elbow joint, and the ice splintered outward in a radiant pattern as he struggled to keep from bowling forwards. The Sveijarn had not anticipated how quickly the ice was going to split; on one hand he was happy to take the plunge in her stead, but on the other... Cracks formed little by little while Larus tried to get his front-end free, positioning his rear legs and bracing with them to try and draw his limbs up and out of the water. Every second meant there were more rumblings and more splintering spiderwebs of weakened ice.