[o] [SE] longneck, ice cold beer never broke my heart

Iskra

BREATHE IT IN, IT'S JUST SNOW, WE'RE JUST FALLING
WE WON'T ALWAYS FREE FALL BACK TO NOTHING

As their laughter and jibes trickled down into more serious talk, reminiscent of telling ghost stories around a campfire, Iskra found her no less delightful than before. It was no surprise, given her career, that she was such an apt speaker. Storytelling was its own artform, and Iskra found himself easily swept up into her tale, nodding along as she spoke.

When she finished, he gave a drawn out "Woooooo!" before tapping the table. "C'mon, let's see it then, the scale." He wasn't sure if she had it on her now, but he hoped she did. Then, as if recounting some of it, he shook his head as he asked, "you wanted to study it? Aren't they mindless beasts hell bent on their next meal?" he asked, trying to wrap his head around what she would have learned. As much as Iskra appreciated the woods and held affection for Goose, he had a healthy respect for most wildlife, albeit not much understanding. As long as they kept their distance, he kept his, and that had worked for long enough.

I'M JUST STARTING TO LEARN
I'VE ALWAYS BEEN CHASING GHOSTS