Duskfire Glacier and so he's chosen to cower in the water like a dumb animal

The tinkerer, in contrast, was made for this. Born and bred within a kingdom of rime, though he was still a stranger here, it was no different from the tundra he sprang from. So far, the rumors he'd heard of the Teekons being remarkable were inconclusive. It was simply another barren wasteland as far as he could tell, but that suited him just fine. There was plenty to study here, especially when another body lay claimed by the lingering winter.

That wasn't to say Shroud himself pulled the life from those bodies. Malice wasn't in his blood.

The young man's keen lavender eyes focused suddenly as another's scream pierced the icy atmosphere. Large alabaster paws suddenly propelled his gracile figure over the unforgiving snow, toward the direction of the cry. It appeared to have come from the direction of the nearby river, and, as far as he could tell, had been the utterance of another of his kind.

The ice-laden waters soon came into view, and he slowed his pace. Silas stopped, the logician's head erect, cooly surveying the landscape. There. A pale figure, wounded, struggling against the bank. Who?

Exhaling sharply, he propelled himself forward once more. Had the other fallen through the ice? He appeared to be on the bank's edge now.

Shroud hesitated, uncertain how the figure would react to his sudden approach. He looked bedraggled and scarred. What was his mind state like?

"Do you require aid?" he called out in deep, crisp tones.