Broken Boulder daddy's ghost behind you,

well, dolce, i can be unfriendly, too, rala said, a humorous smile decorating dark lips. something about this man, perhaps the scars that spoke of an unknown past, or the way his words rumbled deep within his chest, gave the snowwoman a somewhat embarrassing flicker of excitement. he sparked her curiosity - and she was not the type of woman to shy away from admitting that he was quite handsome.

i am nanuralaaq, and she held herself with a formality not borne of ego, but pride ; one that had been hard earnt, as well. many did not survive their first winters, and yet she had. although you, i call you aggakkut, and so you call me rala, if you wish, should he notice the twinkle behind her eye, the way she tilted her head when she spoke, he may be able to perceive the nature of the nickname she had bestowed upon him.

you do not look fit for snow, dolce, but although the words themselves may be misconstrued as mocking, or rude, she said them with a smile almost firmly planted upon her soft, pale features, a curious tilt of her head only emphasising her inquisitive nature. how do you find yourself here? pale tail swaying behind her.