Moonsong Glacier Of the pine-trees crusted with snow

She was cold, or, at least that was the sense in his head. But he cherished this moment, so much. He lowered his head to be level with the top of hers - though it slid to the other side and down her cheek. 

A tail wag. 

A quiet wuff, as if in disbelief.

Maybe she could be his Winter Song, if just for a moment.