Qeya River I think you should know you don't have to stay

He didn't see Thuringwethil at first, and that was his social status' fatal flaw. He flew past her, his tongue an unsightly pink flag flying from his raven lips, his eyes alight with boyish wonder, and threw himself headlong down the slope. His legs wobbled under him as he skidded across the snow, but for a second or two he held his balance.

That is, until his paw caught a dip and he flipped face first into the ground. "Ow!" squealed the juvenile as he writhed for purchase on the hill, but nothing he did could stop his graceless tumble. It took reaching the bottom of the hill for him to come to a stop, and even then he spent another few seconds clutching at his nose—which bled from the impact—before his eyes chanced across the dark-haired form at the top of the hill. As soon as that happened, Ephraim froze.

Ohgoddamnokaymaybeshedidn'tseenoshedefinitelysawyou'resuchanidiotyouuselesslumpofuseless—

"C-Commander!" he briskly acknowledged, doing his best to arrange himself into a posture that was at least slightly respectable, though he knew that she knew that he was being a complete moron seconds before, and his face was burning up with it.