Qeya River I will keep quiet, you'll never know what hit you

He had to get to it. Running his dry tongue over his lips, he perked his ears and whined as he tried to find a solid firm place to put his foot without going under. Jumping back, his eyes scanned the land again, his haunches wagging nervously. He had to. With a determined face, he started again, his back feet treading snow, trying to find a hold...just in case. Testing a rock, his brows drew together as he carefully placed his foot on the rock. So far, so good. 
Swallowing hard, moisture was gone, and he eyed the enticing water, whining yet again. He huffed impatiently. It was so close, yet so far. Scrambling his way down the icy rocks, his tail waved like a flag as he tried to keep his balance. He plunged his muzzle into the icy liquid and drank for long moments.
As he finished, he snapped his head up, air finally inflated his lungs, and his tail wagged, thirst quenched. Standing there for a moment, he blinked. He had gotten to the water. Now how did he back up?