Phoenix Maplewood maybe I can drown

rolled an 8 so no rabbits for Imaq either

There's a flicker of something in his winter-frosted gaze, as if shocked by her forwardness. A faint tinge of heat scorches the northron's cheeks but she can't truly find it in herself to be embarrassed. It seemed the wolves here were more tolerant -- many of them anyways, she amended as Taikon came to mind -- but she still wasn't willing to risk the chance of bypassing the opportunity to settle amongst a Kalaallit, uncertain as she was that another would present itself. Perhaps Rowan and Wintersbane were just outliers, as her own Taatax̂ had been. 

She allowed a faint smile of her own to tug at the corners of her lips in response to his acceptance, beaming at him before allowing her cracked gaze to return to the path before them. "Thank you," she utters, and perhaps if she'd had a tail it would have wagged with joy.

Her flopped ears pricked and she crouched lower ever so lightly as Wintersbane came to a hitching stop to gesture at the warren through the withered foliage. From where she peeks out around the blue bunting's shoulder, the aureate shepherd can make out the small white shapes of a paw's count of snowshoe hares. Her seaglass gaze rises momentarily, to the flicker of movement as her newfound chief indicated which way they were to split and divide their targets. With a nod, the gilded cur hunkered and trotted on low steps to take up a position that would enable her to spring towards the rabbits on the left -- keeping a watch on his navy silhouette from her peripherals for sign of his attack, lest she leap forward too early. 

When the argentine tundrian lunges, so too would Imaq but her paw would sink through the drifts of snow, cracking through an unseen sheet of ice below. Her body lurched suddenly as her paw was snagged in the frozen hole of a half-dug burrow entrance, apparently abandoned for the winter and hidden by the layers of recent snows. The shepherd is sent sprawling, landing on her side with a small oof as the hares bound away. Pain dashes through her  skull and the light stings at her eyes as she lifts her head with a wince, shifting to stand on unsteady legs and tug her paw from where it remains trapped in the rabbit hole.

So much for the spirits not making her look like a fool.