Wandering the nearby territories had become a regular part of Kirain’s responsibilities. There were too many unknown factors, too many potential lost souls, to leave the surrounding lands uninvestigated. How many had she already saved from the wretched cold? How many more would there be? She didn’t know.

In this moment, all she could see was snow.

A piece of her girlish spirit bubbled to the surface, and she found herself prancing through the white drifts with the widest grin spread across her maw. She would always love snow, it reminded her of her childhood, of countless adventures long past. It reminded her of the tundra, of its beauty and its ferocity intertwined as one.

Kirain was content in that moment, frolicking with little care for the world around her, soft, whimsical laughter spilling free. Considering her injuries, she was feeling rather spry, energetic, even joyful.

What harm could that possibly have?