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3894 stood stone still, seemingly unaware of the wind and snow, her frail shoulders hunched against the cold, pale eyes fixed on some distant place unknown to him.
Lashbear put his arm around her - to warm her? protect her? He didn't know for certain. "Two thousand posts. I'm a double loser."
Her eyes swept over his face approvingly, piercing the distance between them. "Kiss," she said in that throaty voice. "Go make it 3,000, Bear."
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"I didn't want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice. Here comes the smolder." - Flynn Rider, "Tangled"
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