Cold!

Poetry sputtered and shook his head, attempting to shake loose the snow that still clung to his face when who else but his father should arrive. His ears flattened to the side as he peered up to the giant man, wondering what he would have to say about his adventure so far. His father's mild laughter brought a huff from the boy, but his irritation was quickly swept away when Sparhawk laid down beside him and brought him close. Bicolored eyes lifted to his father's dark features, ready to speak a mile a minute about his ordeal but his elder was quicker with his tongue. The boy's eyes broadened when his father talked about his homeland, his gaze sweeping quickly around them to the white that blanketed everything.

Forever? Poetry shuddered at the thought, his eyes returning to Sparhawk. "No, don't think so," he declared, before leaning forward and snuggling himself in the fur at Sparhawk's chest and throat. "It's cold! And wet?" He lifted a paw and shook it, flinging a bit of snow away. "How'd you... 'learn to like it', Da? It's everywhere." He was quite emphatic on his last word and would probably have lifted his front paws and gestured around, but he was quite comfortable where he was. He adjusted to peek upward, half hoping his father would have good advice while his other half hoped he could stay like this for a bit.