Arrow Lake I wanna take you home, not just take you home tonight

Heavy snowfall drove Wylla from the open crags down into the forested heart of Arrow Lake. She ducked under the sparse cover of several tightly packed trees and shook out her grizzled fur with a light shiver. For the next few minutes, she sat in the snow and picked at the fur on her chest, forelegs, belly, and flanks, pulling clumps of snow free and smoothing down her pelt until it was well groomed and orderly. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, the Pionier licked her chops and began to walk casually toward the lake itself.

She stuck close to the trees in order to avoid the wind and blinding snow, but eventually wended her way to the shore. She took the measure of the ice there, then reared back on her hind legs, pausing only a moment before driving all of her weight into the tips of her dainty paws to hammer the ice below. She was met with the sound of it groaning and fracturing, but it would take a few more good kicks to get it to break enough for a drink.