In many places it was still quite difficult to tell that the seasons were supposedly changing. Snow thickly blanketed much of the land still, especially this far north, and while the temperatures may have warmed up a little (on average, and if the wind wasn't kicking about too harshly) they could hardly be called balmy. Only a few scattered hairs of Nynka's pelt had turned back to brown as of yet, and her stubby little legs were getting rather tired of repeatedly launching her up and over and around the massive snowbanks that still liberally dotted the area. She did like to think she made quite pretty arcs up into the air in the process, with a lithe grace surely no other creature could match, but that didn't mean she wanted to be forced to move that way all year round.
Thus it was that as she took a brief minute's respite from her exaggerated locomotions and gave the next looming drift the hairy eyeball of disapproval that a small but promising sound grabbed her ear and caused it to twitch attentatively. Nynka turned her head to locate it, and noting that there did seem to be a flatter expanse among the endless snows in that direction, she willingly turned the rest of her long noodle-body to follow after it. It didn't take her long, and only a few medium-to-small hops, skips, and jumps across the wintry landscape to bring her to the source. Nynka scooted along with her belly even closer to the ground than usual to gaze attentatively down at the small but steady tinkling trickle of water in the center of the river, though she cautiously kept clear of the lacy iced edges on either side—probably her own slight weight wouldn't be enough to instantly break through the weakening swiss-cheese-texture of the once-solid sheets, but she did not want to find out the hard way if she was wrong there. She did skitter close enough to get a good close look at the flashing rivulet's eager rushing to wherever it was headed downstream after its long winter of confinement, its patches of clear liquid interspersed with almost blindingly brilliant reflections of the sunlight. She also got close enough to glimpse a sudden dusky blue fin cutting that surface, and leapt back as it banked suddenly downriver and arced a scatter of bright spray in her direction. Nynka gave her head a swift little disgusted shake to make sure no fishy water droplets stayed clinging to her whiskers. Probably the smell would be sufficiently diluted, but if not she sure didn't want to go around the rest of this week with that reeking piscine stink on her fur instead of the proper and beautiful earthy musk of a weasel.
Thus it was that as she took a brief minute's respite from her exaggerated locomotions and gave the next looming drift the hairy eyeball of disapproval that a small but promising sound grabbed her ear and caused it to twitch attentatively. Nynka turned her head to locate it, and noting that there did seem to be a flatter expanse among the endless snows in that direction, she willingly turned the rest of her long noodle-body to follow after it. It didn't take her long, and only a few medium-to-small hops, skips, and jumps across the wintry landscape to bring her to the source. Nynka scooted along with her belly even closer to the ground than usual to gaze attentatively down at the small but steady tinkling trickle of water in the center of the river, though she cautiously kept clear of the lacy iced edges on either side—probably her own slight weight wouldn't be enough to instantly break through the weakening swiss-cheese-texture of the once-solid sheets, but she did not want to find out the hard way if she was wrong there. She did skitter close enough to get a good close look at the flashing rivulet's eager rushing to wherever it was headed downstream after its long winter of confinement, its patches of clear liquid interspersed with almost blindingly brilliant reflections of the sunlight. She also got close enough to glimpse a sudden dusky blue fin cutting that surface, and leapt back as it banked suddenly downriver and arced a scatter of bright spray in her direction. Nynka gave her head a swift little disgusted shake to make sure no fishy water droplets stayed clinging to her whiskers. Probably the smell would be sufficiently diluted, but if not she sure didn't want to go around the rest of this week with that reeking piscine stink on her fur instead of the proper and beautiful earthy musk of a weasel.
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