What could he say? He hadn't done anything because, well, he didn't really have to. He had no direct obligations and so, his life had been entirely voluntarily for his first year. That was not to say that it had been all that easy, for he had rather voluntarily chosen a more difficult way of living even so young. After all, it had only made sense to him - his mother and father were both fighters in their own respect and so, he had desired to find strength early on. It had meant that he often trekked about the mountain, toiling over the stones and through crevices. Of course, there had been times where he thought it might have been more fun with another and yet, company was not something he innately craved. He had his family and, usually, that was enough to satiate him. At least, for the time being. The taller he grew, the taller his ambitions seemed to climb too.

It also meant he had slept far past the rise of the sun; anybody might have thought him lazy had he not reeked of stone and dirt, his pale fur dark with soot on his undersides as he lay content in his father's den. He had taken close to his sister, rather pleased with his efforts to leech her body warmth. For his first winter, he hadn't a clue what to expect and so, the sudden chill had caught him by surprise. He grumbled when his father attempted to wake them; he rolled to his opposite side, pushing his muzzle deeper into his fur as he let out an exaggerated sigh. Didn't his father understand that he had been terribly busy? Did he want him to grow weary and tired, unable to maintain his strength and fall behind the other boys his age? Dramatic, perhaps, and yet his father pushed for them to wake anyway.

Slowly, he had to give in; he let out another relinquished sigh as he rose, practically feeling himself leave his comfortable bubble of warmth. Of course, he was eager inside; a surprise, after all! Slowly but surely, he had begun to follow his father out from the den, only to be slapped in the face with a sudden, horrid coldness. It was wet like water and yet, crunchy like dirt; it made Israfel bark in surprise, his ears back and eyes narrowed as the snow dropped off his face. "Was that the surprise?" He called up to his father as he crawled from the den's mouth; his paws instantly hit the snow and he could not help but step back. His eyes had widened as they stared down at the snow; his father seemed to enjoy it, rolling about and yet... why? It was... cold. Where had all the dirt and plants gone? Curious, he sniffed at it, only to find that it had less scent than he had expected - water, perhaps? "Um," he begun, his head snapping up to meet his father as he did his best to look less surprised than before, feigning a comfort in the unknown, "Is there a reason this stuff has... migrated up here?"

Of course, he had barely any idea of what it could be. He simply wanted to seem more knowing than he was. In fact, he hoped his sister would ask the question he really wanted to know - what the hell was this?