The colourful dragon whistled cheerfully as she ran on her small feet through a patch of watering snow. Her blue-green scales glistened with melting flakes, but she didn't feel the coolness in the air.
"Oh, Skysong, I'll never catch you," Tkaa the basilisk said in his airy voice. He seemed quite at ease, and enjoyed watching the antics and pastimes of the little creature. It made him feel something close to youthful, and he liked the carefree sensation. The crisp, fresh smell of clean snow permeated his senses, and he was content just to breathe it in.
"Happy Midwinter, Skysong."