His head rose from the snow he had just landed in, his body sprawled out in the powder as he looked for his children to join him. The tongue that had lolled from his mouth retracted as he simply watched them for a moment, eyes gleaming with pride as they walked out of the den. Their reactions could not have possibly been more different, each at opposite ends of the spectrum. Where Israfel looked taken aback and perhaps somewhat disgruntled with the change in the atmosphere, Moonfeather looked to the sky in wonderment. For a moment he simply took it all in, the gentle falling snow settling upon the fur of his children as they experienced a true winter's day for the first time. When Israfel looked to him and attempted to mask his mystification with a question Sleekwing rolled up onto his stomach, forelegs extended forward and his hind end still splayed out in the snow. A light chuckle rumbled from his chest.

Moonfeather came prancing through the snow and climbed up atop his shoulder, alighting upon his back as nimbly as though she weighed nothing more than the plumage she'd been named for. He curled his neck around and licked at her nose as she lowered her face to ask him a question. "Its snow, my darling," he said, answering her question first before licking at her face dotingly once more. He then turned back to Israfel, hoping his son might join them out in the pleasant flurry that lightly drifted from the sky. "Now that it is winter, it is too cold for rain to fall. Just like the puddles that freeze overnight, the water from the sky freezes as well - making snow." He offered to Israfel, hoping the explanation made sense. Glancing back up at Moonfeather he gave her a cajoling look and she leapt off of his back into the snow, freeing her father so he could stand up.

He did his best to nimbly rise and jump away from the imprint he'd left in the snow, only then turning back to look at the lopsided wolf print he'd left behind. His brow crinkled in mock dismay. "Well that simply won't do, will it? He looks a bit contorted. Come on Israfel, we'll make a proper pack of snow wolves!" Perhaps there was no real purpose to the idea, no training or skill building that it offered, but it was fun. Trotting over to an area of pristine, untouched white powder he flopped over into the snow once more, this time spreading his legs out to look as if he'd been running. Carefully he leaned up out of the imprint, then jumped to his paws and away from the marking. He glanced towards his children, certain that Moonfeather would join in on the game, and hoping that Israfel might humor his father.