Swiftcurrent Creek Let me go, I wanna die in the disco

YES.

The scent of the fair girl had been lingering about for days. Word came to her that Reverie had decided to join them, and she was not displeased. Of all the visitors, she had tolerated Reverie better than many of the others. She also found Reverie to be the prettiest, out of the ones who had come looking for Lestan. The doe-eyed man was likeable, though she couldn't say much else for him. He was quiet, careful with his words, and sensitive. Perhaps that was Reverie's type- the sort of wolf who would always be safe.

She came upon the young, wisp of a wolf near the stream. She uttered a low grunt to the woman as a greeting. She padded forward to the stream's edge, and firmly pressed down on the thin shelf of ice so it broke away, and left her a gap where she could drink. She crouched, and like a great lion, she began lapping up the cool water, her gaze trained out across the creek. When she stood, she stretched, allowing several vertebrae in her back and neck to pop loudly. She heaved a relieved sigh. The world just felt better when she was able to free up a bit of room in her spine.