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Jaws parted to pant half-heartedly as the man plucked himself up to pad away from the light. Making his way closer to the swirling mess that was the brunt of the snowfall, he faced back towards Mojave. He couldn’t stand to stay so warm when the topic at paw was—

Eyes widened again, and he shook his head quickly. White brows bunched and knit together when the man accepted his escape. Good. Get dry then. The faster they were gone, the faster he could stop having to think about this all. Though something told him this feeling would linger with him for a long while after.

Ceta, he was dizzy. Still nauseous. Still tired. Shuffling some distance closer, he barked a command. Actually, come here. He tapped the ice before him, inviting his companion to take a seat. I’m too tired to walk right now, so I’m going to use you as a pillow while I'm taking a break from that swim. No ulterior motive.

His tail thwacked to the left and his lips curled. You’ve asked a lot of questions. I should ask some more questions. Such as, whatever happened to Amorak? I thought you two were– Rancor flicked an ear, perking a brow. You just gave me an impression. Truthfully, he’d always KNOWN Mojave was not a straight man. He just presumed that the apple of his eye had always been his coworker. It was him who was always interrupting them, and now where was he? You let the zombie eat him?