Moonsong Glacier I sip, I sip, I'm stumbling home

the inhabitants of the glacier were a warm sort. their friendly faces, friendly smiles, friendly words. she feared they might melt the ice before summer did.

some would greet her when she passed, and she would often return their beaming grins with a thin line. the act of acknowledging others in simple passing was a foreign act to the viper. in her homeland one would only receive recognition when they were deserving of it, otherwise most kept their head down and mingled only in the name of daily labor.

the thought of adapting to these kindly ways crossed her mind briefly before being promptly shoved into the darkest corners of her mental filing cabinet.

it was in the depths of her mind that she stumbled upon the chief. she followed his gaze to the spirited seals, chin tipping in interest as she wondered if he sought to make a meal of them.