EAT SNOW

He could not find the energy to be furious. The incredulity was too great, that he was still putting up with the sprite's shenanigans. I am not a babysitter, he would tell himself as he plodded along her trail. I am better than this, he claimed, but continued to care for Sacha all the same. Surely something was wrong with him. Even so, the girl had grown on him. She did not illicit the same rage he'd once felt when thinking of her, nor did he sit awake at night wondering how he might give her the slip. In truth, thinking of such things made his fur heat up with a dull sort of shame. "Sacha?" he called out. He was close now, he knew it.

A familiar shriek met his ears and he sighed, wondering if that was from delight or something else. "Oh, hell," he rumbled to himself, before taking off towards the noise. Unlike some other reckless souls he might mention, he was careful to maintain stability on the slippery surface of the lake below. He saw her before him, saw her bash into the pillar and winced, wondering if it had hurt as much as it had appeared to from his distance. He saw her skid a bit further before collapsing and with yet another sigh he trotted to where she'd come to rest. His ear caught a faint but indistinct muttering. Well, at least she was alive... "Sacha? What on earth was that, you could have killed yourself." His voice was gruff and not at all coddling as it might have been if he were a caring sort. Instead he leaned down, sniffing over her prone form, trying to discern if she was bleeding or had broken any bones.