The frozen landscape of Iceberg Isle seemed to stretch on endlessly, a world of white under the soft, diffused glow of the distant sun. The air was crisp, the silence deep—only the faint whisper of the wind and the occasional crackling of shifting ice broke the stillness. Nestled comfortably in the snow, Purim had spent most of the day curled up, undisturbed, the thick layer of blubber beneath her pale skin keeping her warm despite the cold.

A content sigh left her lips as she finally stirred, dark lashes fluttering open. Her long black hair was dusted with tiny snowflakes, but she hardly cared. With a graceful stretch, she rose to her feet, heeled boots sinking slightly into the powdery ground. It was only then that she noticed something unusual—a figure standing a short distance away, bundled up against the chill.

Purim's gray eyes gleamed with intrigue. A stranger. And, more importantly, a cute one.

With a slow, deliberate stride, she approached, each step making barely a sound against the snow. When she was close enough, she tilted her head, a playful smirk curling at the edges of her lips.

"My, my... What brings someone like you all the way out here?" she purred, her voice smooth, almost musical. She took a moment to study them, lingering just a little too long (perhaps to fluster, perhaps to tease). Then, with a graceful twirl of her wrists, she picked up the sides of her lacy skirt and curtsied to the newcomer.

"I am Purim. Now... what may I call you?"