Dawnlark Plains pretend you know this song

Frost crunched beneath his paws as he padded along. It astounded him how the cold substance managed to thrive in such a hot environment. His tongue lolled from his jaws as he panted, the merciless sun beating down on him. Tahoe paused for a moment, eyes panning the desolate landscape. The plains were rather simplistic, an endless grassland dappled by occasional patches of rock and ice. A more sizable chunk of snow gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight. He strode toward it, bending downward for a a few licks. The icy sensation numbed his hot tongue. Pleased, the lupine lifted his skull, continuing on his way. His travelling partner, Alejandro, was up ahead. He allowed him a significant lead, choosing to assume a more indolent gait. Soon enough, he espied the familiar man's motionless silhouette in the near distance. McBride lumbered toward him without haste. Eventually, he caught up to him. 

What? He mumbled as an apathetic greeting.