"We shall indeed," he said with a confident smile on his whiskery muzzle. The arctic wolf was bigger than Ril'o, and he knew he was much heavier - if anyone was doomed to fall in, it would be himself. But with his impervious winter coat and his resistance to cold, he reasoned, it wouldn't be much of a threat to him. He swam all year 'round, in rivers at least. Besides, the island had suddenly become a tantalizing prospect - he simply
had to know what was on it, even if the odds were in favor of an empty sandbar.
"Heheh, maybe I'll tell you the waterfall story when you're a little older. It involved a very pretty girl..." Slay grinned wolfishly as he set his first furry paw on the ice. The cold flat surface was a bit uncomfortable, but his wide pawpads distributed his weight more evenly, and his blunt claws dug in like crampons. Confidence rising, he took several more carefully placed steps, until all four feet were off the shore.
Slay had a bad habit of boasting about his old stories, which usually weren't as wild as he made them sound. He had swum over a waterfall - twice - but neither had been particularly tall, and the girl in question had lost her scarf, so Slay had been obligated to swim after it. It ended up in a tree below, if memory served correctly...
I've got soul but I'm not a soldier
