Duck Lake its going to heal, but it ain't going away

The silver-pelted male canted his head in a manner that was all too familiar, fixing her with a questioning gaze. He sent a question her way, wondering aloud what she had meant by what she had said to him earlier.

She laughed lightly at that. "Well. I love all four seasons, though there are some exceptions. It's been... dreary the past couple of days and the weather or view has been no help. I just want something... cheerier, you know?" Crëyr rolled a slim shoulder, gesturing towards the half-frozen lake and the bare, jagged branches. "Though you may say the opposite."

She used the time to study him for a moment, while he stared right back. Tall and robust with broad shoulders and seemingly beautiful eyes made out of poison— he was definitely quite handsome, a feature Crëyr had to admit that the "relationally connected" Shadow possessed. Well...

"I'm Crëyr, by the way. Crëyr Awyseren."

There was a scar on his shoulder, a hardened, ancient injury. It was deep enough to have his sleek grey fur parted both ways to show the slash. Promptly she wondered where he'd gotten it from, though she did not think she would be in the right place to ask.

Later on did a seemingly mischievous smile appear on his features, and threw a question her way, asking if she herself thought the lake would be could. It looked frigid and chilling to the bone, though she'd swum through freezing waters back with the squad. She wasn't sure if her body was still in that strong Welsh condition, though she knew it wouldn't be quite a good idea if she barrelled into the water headfirst.

The slim she-wolf shrugged a shoulder, though she was grinning. "It may most definitely be cold. Why don't you take a dip? Test the waters a little?"