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Wynn finished readjusting the rope around his waist. Now there were several yards of extra rope unraveled from around their waists that he would be able to cross with. As Wynn retied the knot so that it didn't slip lose in the water, he glanced to the ice. It was only ten strides away. It wasn't that far across. But despite Wynn's comforting notions, there was a part of him that was still nervous. One thing about ice was that they couldn't trust it. It was tricky, temperamental, and ever-changing.

It was about the time that Wynn studied the length of the river, that Scyeth spoke up with concern. The young Inuk turned to him and gave a meek smile. "Cane is guide too. He knows wilderness like I. I just happened to live in snow, but he knows about it still," at the time, Wynn didn't realize what he was doing, the fact that he was comforting Scyeth with promises that it would be okay if he was taken by the river. "Besides, I am small. It's safest this way and you have rope." Wynn patted the knot around his waist. He just hoped that he would be able to help pull any of the others out of the water if they happened to fall, being small and all. If they were to fall and Wynn tried to pull them through with just himself, he would be pulled in as well.

"I am fine."

With that, Wynn made his way over to the ice. He carefully lowered himself onto his knees, carefully testing the ice with his hands, finding the strongest part, before he slowly crawled onto it. It seemed sturdy enough, but "seemed" didn't make Wynn's heart beat any less loudly as he began to make his way across.

Scyeth stiffened as he watched little Wynn continue to get ready to try the ice. The demon's expression hardened and he shook his head. This was a river! And sure, it was bloody well cold enough to be frozen, but what if it wasn't? Cane was truly a fool to think he was stronger than nature; even Scyeth knew better. "Don't..." he muttered, but it was of no use. Cane and Wynn were determined to sacrifice the youngest member of their group on a stupid plan.

He couldn't watch.

He knew Wynn wanted to be strong! He knew! But this wasn't the way to do it! Being reckless in the school gym and being reckless out in the wilderness were two completely different things. What if they were out here during night fall? Speaking of. Scyeth glanced to the sky. The sun was getting low.

"Don't carry me anymore. I am strong."

The demon moved away from Cane and braced himself against the chilly breeze. Or maybe he was just bracing himself against the cold feeling he had at the pit of his stomach.

CRAAAACK! Wynn has fallen through the ice!

It was over as quickly as it had begun and Canaan already had Wynn out of the water by the time Scyeth could limp himself over. And what's worse, the lad didn't even have his spare clothing anymore, not since he hurt himself was was forced to abandon his pack. Well. Canaan could carry Wynn now. The blond shifted and turned, unable to look at Wynn. He couldn't shake that terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I think we should keep moving."

"Aah...Aaaah!"

A splash of icy water belched forth as Wynn's hands were suddenly swallowed up by icy teeth, splashing against his face and chest. One moment, the ice was strong against his hands, supporting his passage, and the next, he was falling headfirst into the river. He didn't think that the ice would break...He thought that it could hold him...His arms quickly disappeared into the water and the boy hardly had time to think before he inhaled, swallowing a mouthful of icy river. Before Wynn knew it, he was back on the tundra in Alaska reliving the moment he slipped beneath the ice into the Arctic Ocean.

It was quickly over before it began, though, for the strong arms of Cane yanked the rope back and quickly enclosed around him, bringing him back from his nightmare. Wynn was pulled from the ice only moments after it broke underneath him. His amber eyes were wide and icy water dribbled from his face onto his chest, slipping past his layers of clothes to where his body trembled terribly. His chest heaved with shaky breaths and he felt himself sink in Cane's arms, overwhelmed with relief.

He didn't say anything, though. The boy silently turned himself around in Cane's arms and pressed against him, shaking. The frigid air was biting at his wet arms and wet skin, chilling his skin.

For some reason, this failure of getting across the ice, disturbed him. He wasn't sure why, but it felt like...He had been rejected from the very thing that borne him. It was like...Wynn didn't want to think anymore. This meant that he was still weak. He wasn't strong.

Wordlessly, he took the jacket offered to him by Cane and shivered beneath it, his teeth chattering in his frigid cheeks.

Wynn climbed onto Cane's back, clinging tightly to the other Native's warmth. He was kind to Wynn, that much he was thankful for, but somehow he didn't feel right. Wynn had failed in crossing the river, so why was he being carried like he was wounded in battle on some heroic death charge? He hadn't gained anything. He didn't prove anything, besides the fact that the ice was unsafe. He supposed that finding that out was the reason, but it wasn't good enough for Wynn. He didn't feel anything but fear...And cold.

Giving a great shiver, Wynn jostled himself gently on Cane's back, quietly asking to be let down. He gave a few kicks of his legs and softly let his arms slip lose from 'round his kin's shoulders, wrapping them around his cold wet torso. He didn't carry any grievous wounds. He could walk by himself. He didn't deserve to be carried on Cane's back. If anything, Scyeth needed the support because of his twisted ankle.

"...Nm," Wynn mumbled, wiggling again in protest as his teeth chattered.

"Yes, let's do it quickly." Cane gave Wynn a reassuring smile, before helping him take off the new, thick jacket, quickly. It wouldn't do to have it become soaking. The wet clothes would have to be stripped off [luckily his pants were fine] and replaced with dry in a hurry. "Thank you, Rufus."

Cane watched as Scyeth, finally given a specific task, decided what to do. It was interesting to see what it took to get the blonde into motion. The wet clothing, if not important to Wynn, would be abandoned.

Wynn gave small sounds of protest as he was surrounded in the hands of his companions. He could hardly stop them, so he quietly allowed them to strip off his pack, his hooded atiqik made of caribou leather, his two coats underneath and his cotton t-shirt under that. He kept his goggles on him, though, refusing to let them be taken away lest he not get them back. For a few moments, his chocolate chest, lithe little arms, and torso were exposed to the bitter cold. His skin instantly prickled as the wet clothing was stripped away from him and Wynn gave an even greater shiver as the air attacked what wet left on his skin. He took several big breaths, watching through squinted eyes as his breath fogged up in little clouds, catching against the towel that Scyeth rubbed onto his head, drying his hair. When Scyeth finished, Wynn forced a small smile at the blond demon, his hair, now less wet but not entirely dry, was sticking up in all directions.

Within moments, Wynn's Inuit body was covered up again by Cane's replacement jacket, a little wet from his own clothing that had been stripped off, but definitely much drier. They were right in their assumptions about taking off the wet clothes, that was the best thing to do. They weren't as warm or thick as his Inuit clothing, but it was better than being soaking. When Cane made the motion to leave Wynn's wet clothes on the ground, the Inuit snapped his arm out and caught him, giving him the trembling furrow of his brows. He would not leave his clothing behind. This was the clothing that he had brought from his home that were him, the clothing of the Inuit. Instead, he took his wet clothing himself, folded it up with shaking arms and packed them into his own backpack. He would carry the extra burden. They were his after all.

Then there was Rufus, who was trying to take off his sealskin gloves. Almost instantly, Wynn retracted his hands and frowned, pulling them tight to his body. He would not let someone like Rufus see his hands and if it would mean having wet gloves, so be it. The young Inuk would not let his gloves be taken off for anything.