Moonsong Glacier you think you have the best of intentions

shit, shit, shit!
nails dug in to the ice, he was still sliding even while he was yelling. climbing up this big dumbass thing was probably the worst idea that he had yet, but that was among a very long list that was looking to be cut off in his short life. or so he thought for the briefest of moments—he got lucky this time when the sliding stopped.
and he hadn't even slid that far, truth be told.
his heart raced as he scrambled away from what he thought was a sure edge to a fast death, finding purchase in hard snow pack as he made his way along towards solid stone. not that fake icy, glittery shit he had just been skating around on, oh hell no, he was done with that.
fuck my life, he mumbled, managing to keep the quaking of his legs still as he composed himself on much more sturdy, life-saving ground. we ain't doin' that shit again, no siree. nope. this was a bad idea.
now he just had to figure out how to get the hell out of here.

Draper watched with mild amusement as the coyote skidded on the slick ice. He had done the same thing only a few minutes earlier, and he was currently perched upon a bank of snow. The snow itself had stopped falling sometime earlier that day (although Draper was convinced this was only a brief break), and boy howdy was it bright out this afternoon with all the reflecting that was going on. He squinted at the scene below, chuckling as the other coyote seemed to be trying to figure a way out of their situation.

Hey buddy! he called out, tail beating against the snowdrift where he sat, causing puffs of snowflakes to swirl around him. There's a whole lot more traction over here.

slowly, he tested the ground with every step to make sure that he could actually get somewhere instead of sliding off to a miserable, painful death. it took a moment for his confidence in the snow pack to build again, but once it had things went a lot more swimmingly.
at least until he realized that he had an audience.
the voice alone was enough to stop him dead, his eyes immediately finding and latching onto... another coyote? oh, this was peculiar. unexpected. his face may as have as much. dumbly, lakhos blinked at the sight that he saw—namely the friendliness that was greeting him.
had it really been so long since he had been greeted that happily? or with that sort of aiding enthusiasm? short answer: yes, yes it had.
oh, uh, hi, he said lamely, just like he had been caught red-handed. which he had, because who on earth actually managed to escape potential death on a regular basis? winter was full of it.
i was actually just kind of up there, only... over there, he went on, gesturing with his snout to where he had gone sliding along the slope. this shit's wack, man. i've never seen an ice block so damn big before. makes you wonder what kind of stupid asses would be up here in the first place, you know? them, apparently, though he had hoped he would have been left alone here. but at least this guy wasn't a wolf because lakhos had definitely had enough of those guys to last a minute.
the hell are you doing up here anyway? i've haven't seen another coyote in a while.
but lakhos, you aren't a coyote. not fully.