Cold!

His boy seemed disgusted at the prospect of snow all the time and Sparhawk laughed aloud, lips pulling back in a grin. Curling his forelegs, he allowed Poetry to sit atop them so that the pup didn't have to touch the snow unless he chose to. Since Poet was nuzzling into the thick fur of his father's chest, Sparhawk took the opportunity to hold him close in a warm embrace. No doubt he would soon be 'too big' for such things.

When Poet asked how his father managed to like snow, Sparhawk thought for a moment, giving his head a slight tilt as he did so. "When life gives you situation that you think is bad, you make it good." With his nose, he motioned to the snow all around them. "Take snow. Is cold and sometimes wet, but..." Extracting one leg from beneath the boy, the redwood man pushed into the drift that his son had fallen into. The snow cave way and, because the weather permitted and the snow was a little damp today, it caved easily, leaving a big hole in the side of the drift. "you can build with it. Build a cave or a snow wolf." He licked the top of his son's head, ridding it of a bit of clinging snow. "Snow also means you always have water. Is not all bad."