"So how do you know what snow is if you've never played in it?," she asks, swishing her legs in the water in order to help her circulation. "People don't play in the snow barefoot. We can't stand cold look your people can." She looks down at the water passing beneath them, the moonlight reflecting off his golden scales. She turns to him, all lightness gone from her eyes. "We'll get you back to the ocean, I promise Mystic. Some way or another, we'll get you home."