Duskfire Glacier you are the trailer park, I am the tornado

From afar Dirtwater Fox watched the woman race across the ice. He wondered if she knew how close she flew to the flames. But that wasn't his problem, was it?

He settled to watch her, free of any intention save observation for now. Perhaps she would fall. Perhaps she would make amusing noises as she died. Or perhaps she would disappear into the dancing lights with all the rest.

Either way, he would watch.