The sky was a dull silver, almost white. With his chin titled up, golden eyes piercing the pale ceiling, it seemed to hold a threat more snow would come. But, maybe then it would warm up a little. A rough sniff, he dropped his head, and padded closer to the shoreline. There was a drip to his nose with the chill biting against it. A minor irritation he continued to fight against. But, he had no want to go to the Ridge, curl up and nap. The rogue needed a moment away from the willows. There was a lot of doom, and gloom cloaking them. It was hard not to give into it. Maybe, the others would think he hadn't a heart. He was good at being stoic. Hiding emotions. It seemed important to hide weakness. How weak the Ridge was. He thought of what he would do should a lone wolf pick up on it. Try to take advantage. His favorite idea was sending them off swiftly with teeth. Why the second was hurling questions at them until he could decide a motive. If maybe, they should have chance to stay. No such wolves came. The Ridge continued to feel dead. There began thoughts of changing things.
Looking across the frozen lagoon the air felt stifling here too. He knew why. He loved and hated this place. All that had happened here. There was a twitch in his cheek, as he ground his teeth, and walked further out. Paws crunching the snow beneath him, muttering how it should just dam well snow. Until his foot met the ice, and slowly stretched forward on its own accord. A half chuckle choked itself out, and he slid his other legs forward just enough. But the slick surface, caused him to teeter in place, close to sending him on his nose. Ears twisted back, he again skated forward trying to get the hang of it.