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Ingrid couldn't say she loved the cold, but she certainly liked it more than the heat. Up here, the grass was already coated in frost, and the ground was hard beneath her hooves.
In the distance, she could see something shining. The flickering light piqued her interest. She turned towards it, and soon realized that it was a small fire. As she drew closer, she realized that nobody was there manning it.
How did that even get there, she wondered.
Ingrid approached cautiously, but eventually decided to sit down beside it. Still suspicious, she called out, "Hello? There isn't some kind of booby trap or spooky critter that's gonna want a sacrifice from me for sitting near his fire, right?" She waited a few seconds,"Alright, I'm gonna take that as a no then. And no backsies!"
With that, she moved a little to the side of the fire, and had herself a good roll in a snowdrift. She coated her whole back in powder, and kicked up flurries with her hooves, snorting with laughter. It wasn't like there was anyone around to see her acting like a yearling, right?
No, there weren't signs of anyone being nearby, so long as one chooses to ignore the fire and the trail of hoofprints leading away from it that Ingrid had failed to spot.
Probably open to others if they feel like getting absolutely roasted?
