Sawtooth Spire zusammenhalt

She wondered if he might balk, though he moved nearer without hesitation and pressed his warm, dry fur against her. "Th-th-thanks," Q said, snorting at her own stutter. She made the same noise at his comment, bobbing her head even as she leaned harder into his fatherly embrace. "I'll t-tell you all about Fr-Fr-Frolic when I can speak-k properly a-a-again."

The Eisen made a motion which she felt, though Quell chose that moment to press her eyes closed as if that would somehow conserve heat. At his words, though, they popped open again and she nodded. Reluctantly drawing away from him, Q made a mad dash toward the ridge line, leaving Mahler and the trout in her dust. The lope certainly helped warm her muscles, though it was offset by the windchill. Her teeth continued to chatter as she reached one of the flat stones.

She hesitated. Even though Mahler was right—the stone was exposed fully to the sun, free of snow—Q knew it was still going to be cold. Clenching her jaw, she melodramatically cast her youthful body across it, hissing through her teeth at its cold press. But the discomfort passed quickly and she melted back against the bedrock, flopping onto her side to provide the most surface area for the sun's rays to soak into her.

It was perhaps a few minutes later when Q lazily lifted her head to look around for Mahler in case he'd come up here to join her. "Y'wanna hear about my pet hot dog?" she called out into the crisp air, her voice echoing comically off the surrounding crags, half a dozen ghostly cries about hot dogs fading into the distance.