Moonspear I'm all out of thread-naming patterns

Yama made no move to avoid her mother’s touch, leaning into it instead, once she felt it; it sent a small chill down her spine, her fur parted and allowing the chill to touch her skin directly. She shot Ame a sheepish smile immediately thereafter, uncertain of how else to react. She wasn’t so sure she liked the cold, after all—it would take some serious getting used to so, more than likely, this year would not be the same year that she comes to term with the cold months and accepts them as they are.

With a slow shake of her head, she answered with, “No, not yet.” Honestly, she hadn’t even been searching for something of interest, something worth sharing, she’d simply been walking. But the question made her wonder if, perhaps, she should be looking for something—would mama be disappointed by her lack of interest? Worried by the fleeting thought, she decided against admitting the truth and, instead, asked, “Why is it so cold now?” Nice save, Yama, nice save.