2 Laurent trained guards arrives, following Mabelle.

Galiana, a meticulous and mysterious lady-in-waiting, 6 House Velenosa Guards arrive, following Isobella.

The judgement green has been set up with multiple replica's of a ships deck, two masts standing tall, on platforms that look like they could easily be rolled and emulate a rollicking sea. People participate in the tournament, others gather round to cheer on their favourite commoner or noble who scrabbles and swings, sways and falls. There's snow tos often those falls but not by much. Braziers are lit to let observers huddle in warmth, tables laid out with finger foods and drinks both hot and cold for those gathered. Pennants blow in the thick snow that's falling swiftly at an angle and makes for some slippery coursework and already the mercies have been present to see to setting an arm or two of individuals who have fallen from lofty heights and missed the snow or netting.

Alarissa stands with Vega, budnled beneath the fur and seasilk, going over the numbers from those who have currently run the heats that have already started and looking over the names of the next heat. It's proving to be a fairly busy late morning. Snowballs go flying from those who have brought children but are not participating and there seems to be more than a few castles and forts being built upon the green for an improptu snowball fight. A servant of thrax calls out the next heat's names and a ten minute warning.

Kit, the grey fox, Primus, First of Monique's Assistants, 1 Greenmarch Guard, Tertius, Third of Monique's Assistants, Quartus, Fourth of Monique's Assistants arrive, following Monique.

Mabelle has joined the line.

Mabelle travels into the judgment green and scans the platforms installed in awe. She notices the crowd form and those present and offers a general greeting, "Good evening everyone!", but a fond greeting is specifically directed to Vega and Raimon, "Your Highnesses", she trips somewhat over her own tongue, "So good to see you".

Sanya Grimhall arrives in judgement green with her escort, woolen hood of a cream cloak shielding her from the biting chill. Making her way to the hostess of the games, carefully dodging the frozen projectiles as she walks, a warm smile is offered. "Your highnesses, good morning." She offers a curtsy to the women, her tone, sincere. "I am impressed, though not surprised, by the set up." She gestures to the ship deck replicas.

Sis, a redheaded morning person arrives, following Natalia.

There goes someone sailing wide on a rope in their dismount. They were aiming for fancy and instead it's a bellyflop of fairly epic proportion and a even into the snow, there's an audible thwack and a groan.

Sis, a redheaded morning person leaves, following Natalia.

Vega stands near to the High Lord and Lady, cundled up tightly against the cold and looking up at Raimon with a lifted brow, "Would you care for something warm to drink before you make your run, my dear?" She is herself grasping a mug of hot cocoa in both hands, as close to a brazier as she can be without risking burns. Mabelle's greeting is noted, lifting a hand and a smile towards her in return, "Lady Mabelle! How nice of you to join us for the festivities!" She winces at the sound of some poor soul hitting the snowbank and glances back to her husband, "I expect you to do better than that young man, my lord. Do not make me test my fledgling medical skills on you this soon, hm?"

Isobella has the look of someone that was likely on her way elsewhere, judging by her expression of bemusement upon noticing the ship decks set up well away from the docks. The Velenosa pauses, Galiana ever faithfully skulking at her side, to watch as the tournament begins.

Monique will absolutely slip and slide, but it won't stop her! And so the Minx of the Marches arrives in a blaze of crimson glory, eschewing her silks for mens breeches and sweater, a dark cloak thrown indiscriminately over top. She still wears a King's ransom in dragonweep, not willing to sacrifice quite so much. "I'm ready!" she announces upon arrival, breath puffing out in the wintry air. "My arms no longer feel like wiggle worms and I believe I've recovered sufficiently from being pelted by snowballs."

Raimon stands by his wife, having shed his armor for once. Though he is probably rather cold under the thin cloak that he wears. He bears the torment, standing near the brazier. "No thank you, My Lady. I am afraid that such a drink may disturb my resolve." He turns towards Mabelle as she arrives, offering her a bow. "Lady Mabelle. It is good to see you." He does not even dignify that he might do so poorly as the individual running the course with a response beyond a level stare at Vega.

A grey palfrey with black points (with a dorsal stripe under her light saddle) gracefully tolts to the gathered group with a wolf-pelt-covered rider aboard who tumbles off from the horse's back before crouch landing, one hand down, into the fluffy snow. Nova bounces up to her full height as her good horse speeds past with a soulful hound loping along behind the moving equine until those four-legged critters finally pause somewhere off sides on their own. Meanwhile, Nova walks up to the gathered contestants. "Greetings." says she with the quieted/subdued version of her Northern voice.

Alban, an enormous palomino destrier with massive feathered hooves arrives, following Svoli.

"Lady grimhall. Have you come to test your luck?" There goes someone else, sticking the landing though he gets far less applause than the snowbank flopper. "I commend the carpenters. They were swift in assembling my vision and ensuring there were dockhands to work the rolling decks" And my how they roll. As other start to gather in preperation for thier runs across the sea of masts on the green, Alarissa looks to Victus. "Are you sure you don't want to try?" She doesn't seem to think he will but she offers anyways.

Elsewhere on the grounds, the calls go up "Participants move to your platform." The dockahnds getting a few moments break.

The Grimhall greets the others gathered with a smile, curtsying once more for Victus, before turning to Alarissa. "I can't say I'm dressed especially well for an attempt, but I can try." She says with an amused smile, though her brows furrow as her eyes follow the failed contender.

It would be truly surprising if Svoli were afforded a good view from the distance she rides up to on the periphery. But she does linger there to watch.

Galiana, a meticulous and mysterious lady-in-waiting, 6 House Velenosa Guards leave, following Isobella.

While she carries a heavy coat that might throw her off balance, Mabelle has no intent to shed it, she's freezing. Obedient to the host she steps to one of the platforms and settles her feet in shoulder width, keeping her balance.

Sanya has joined the line.

Svoli mutters, "What's all this, ..."

Monique sketches an elegant bow to Alarissa and Victus, offering waves to Merek and Mabelle, the latter whom she follows towards the platforms. "You've got this, Mabelle! You can do it! Just don't look down!" There's a pause. "Wait, what am I saying... I want to win! Look down!"

At the call to take position, Raimon gives a sharp nod of his head. He turns back towards Victus and bows. "It would be an honor to compete against you, Your Grace." He reaches up, shedding his cloak to fall to the ground Dressed in a plain linen shirt and a pair of leather pants that is almost certainly doing nothing to block the cold, Raimon moves to prepare his run.

"An obstacle course my lady" Offers a servant bearing the tabard of Thrax. "Part of a series of events composing the Snowy Seas held by Thrax and Darkwater." Filling in Svoli on what's happening. "If you wish to partake I am sure they can place your name on the lists."

Sir Floppington and the grey mare hang out beside the nearest tree while their Scout Rowenova quietly trudges through the snowy terrain to a preparative place.

Mabelle huffs aside at Monique in a good hearted manner, "Of course I got this! Your chance to confuse me was earlier" she winks at her.

Victus had kept himself away from the action, a spectator to those blowing through the snow. Stood there in his great coat, wolf pelt about his arms and the alaricite breastplate adorning his chest. Dressed for the weather as much as he was combat. He stays close to Alarissa, watching the games in (mostly) silence. "No, I'm only here to watch." He remarks to Alarissa and Raimon both.

Lottie has joined the line.

Blinking, Svoli looks up from the destrier she has yet to dismount while lingering on the periphery. "...No...but thank you," comes the none too loud reply to the servant offering. "Still, it can't hurt to watch." And so she goes quiet again, outside periodic whispers to her horse.

Rowenova has joined the line.

Risking the cold, likely anticipating the adrenaline will see her through, Sanya removes the cloak from her shoulders delicately, passing it to a nearby retainer. Straightening her posture, she joins the line, no hint of trepidation despite her words.

Lottie hurry, hurry, hurried... holding her hat on her head as she had just bolted full speed from her shop to the Green upon the realization that she was about to miss they winter time magical event! She breathed heavily, halting and dropping hands to her knees as she caught her breath.

Merek makes his way to the place for the snow sailing while he has on his black wools as well as some other stuff as well.

Seeing Lottie, Sir Floppington leaves behind the grey mare and bounds off after the hurrying baker who he wags up to.

Smiling faintly as her husband moves to start his run, Vega steps in a little closer to Alarissa and murmurs, "This is more to Raimon's skills. He may not be used to ship's rigging, but I've seen him run obstacles against the soldiers in Tor. He's quite good at them." Sipping her hot cocoa, she offers a nod towards Victus before looking back to the competition to watch the runners.

"I imagine he is saving himself for the ship battle." Alarissa consoles Raimon, smiling up at Victus. But everyones getting into positions, the platforms reset, sails put back up and tied off ready for the next round.

And soon enough the horn is blown indicating that the participants should start off.

At the sound of the horn, Raimon takes off running. For a man of his size there is a surprising amount of grace to his movements as he moves across the rolling deck. He takes the moving surface and the snow in easy stride, keeping his body loose to move with the tipping and swaying of the make shift deck. His stern eyes are focused ahead of him, paying attention only to the course itself.

Nova dashes forth upon the rolling platform and frantically atempts to hopefully reach the main mast, but she is not the fastest person here today. Nothing about snow, ice, or water bothers the Northerner, but the shifting underneath her is not something she has experienced in some time, and so the next bump almost throws her off kilter, but she catches herself and then carries on!

"Sir Floppington!" Lottie immediately exclaimed, dropping to her knees and throwing her arms about the pupper in a floof of skirts. "Where is your mommy, hm?" She smooshed the hound's face as she leaned to peer into its large, soulful eyes with a grin. "OH! I gotta' go!" And off she was running as the horn sounded. Oh, there was Rowenova! Who she darted on by with a grin and a panting wave. She was surprising agile for a tradesman baker. Surprise even to her by the look on Lottie's face as she managed her way across the wobbling deck with arms held out for balance.

As the horn is blown, Sanya is attentive to the pattern of the movements, allowing her to deftly make it across the rolling platform -- her motion somewhat resembling a dance. A small smile forms on her lips as she makes it to the other side.

Mabelle loses her balance just as the horn blasts as the heel of her boot gets stuck in the deck. She takes a few precious seconds to release it and begins to run, she dashes forward with all she has but a apparently the coat does hold her back and she is very slow. So slow. Combined with the seconds she lost at the start she is straggling behind, jumping and hopping and trying to AT LEAST not fall.

For a brief time, Sir Floppers chin-to-shoulder hugs Lottie but lets go when the agile baker dashes away. He happily wags, moving closer to observing folk and probably petitioning for even more potential pets now, too!

Monique joins Mabelle on the first of the platforms and grins side long at her friend. "This ought to be fun, hm?" And when the horn blows, Monique goes. She's not amazing, but she doesn't fall off the platforms and faceplant into the snow, which is probably a relief for anyone who would have to deal with her ill grace afterwards.

Nova momentarily incorporates a sorta wave via her balancing, extended arms whilst she moves forth over the trundling platform, doing so second to last, but she always starts a bit slow. Meanwhile, her canine companion as well as the equine one are off visiting various observers for their potential pets.

When Sir Floppington gets close, Svoli nimbly slides off one side of the enormous horse she showed up give out pettings, murmuring to Rowenova's horse, too, in turn. "Hi, it's nice to meet you," and then cocking her head faintly, nodding at it after a few seconds, thoroughly distracted, for a moment at least.

The soulful hound Sir Floppington soaks up all those no-longer potential pets which actually become reality, thanks to Svoli! He leans close against her whilst whapping his tail in the snow behind him as he wags. Meanwhile, the palfrey mare with the grey coat and black points curiously regards Svoli, doing so with an ear swivel her way along with a little lowering of face.

(024And they're off. The motley crew of nobles and commoners alike scrambling to find footing on those manually swaying decks. People who have traveresed before have left slush where they have passed, and the snow falls fierce from time to time. More than a few snowflakes make it where they shouldn't and leave a shudder or two. Some of the far platform fall off the platform tumbling into the snow and never make the mast and have to start from the start.

But the Fidante turned Thrax has fleet feet and is fleek as fuck as he takes the deck with a surity matched only by the Grimahll Lady that is Sanya who shows that even though she's a woman of Grimhem's point, she can still maneuver around a ship indeed. Both tag the mast though Sanya's is more in style.

Next in the progression is the little baker that could. calloused hands from time spent around the overs and dancing around fallen loaves of bread and pastries makes for another fleet footed lass and the Scout that is Rowenova is encouraged along with barks from Sir Floppington before he's distracted by Svoli as they manage to make their sure footed way across slushy snowy decks. Mabella wasn't prepared to partake and while there is some floundering, it's not going to toss her out and the mast looms ahead for her and her skirts and from the crowd comes the shout of "BUZZ EM LADY LAURENT!". It would seem that the Laurent has her own cheering team and someone lifts a hand high with a knit scarf with a bee on it. Buzz buzz.

Merek is there as well, the smith and artist making his way across and Monique as well. Black and scarlet tied for the speed across the platform.

And there's snowballs. Svoli gets off her horse in time for an errant snowball to miss her, and someone cheekily throws one Vega and Alarissa's way. Though it misses Vega but strikes the Princess consort on the shoulder with a screech from the carmine clad woman. Who would do such things?!

Do you want a snowball fight? Because this is how you get a snowball fight. Svoli, spotting the arcing globe of packed ice, ducks to scoop up one of her own, packing it a couple times and sending it hurtling off toward where the first snowball came from, and quite possibly hitting the wrong party. Ah, well. She sets about whickering at Nova's horse then, and murmuring at it.

Mabelle might have reached the nets last but she grasps those ropes and begins to haul herself upward. Kinda works for her to be so skinny. One foot after the other, and the damn heel is in her way again, for goodness sake! Comfort comes when she at least manages to pass over Monique, whispering to her as she passes her, "Don't look down, Monique, don't look down".

Svoli mutters, "... ... sweet girl. ... so sorry about your sister. ... you like me to ask if ... can see her?"

Raimon scales his way up the nets, and unfortunately his size does get in the way this time. As does the fact that he has never actually climbed swaying nets either. Still his lead does assist him, though he does offer a small scowl as he watches Sanya scale up past him.

Merek is managing the first then the next okay, while he does so, as he makes his way about also.

Monique might have looked down. It's possible. She bites her lip hard and tries to focus on the climb instead. One hand, one foot, slowly upwards. So slowly.

Thank the gods for those calluses! The burn of the rope was nothing to the little baker as Lottie moved on after tagging the mast to begin the ascent of the rigging. She was hot on the heels of Raimon and Sanya and whoever was behind her may have gotten a brief glance of bloomers. Rarely prepared (aside from her cooking), little Lottie hadn't thought to change into something more appropriate for the event before she went running to get there. Poofy skirts billowed in the wind and snow causing a bit of drag and keeping her firmly behind the pair she pursued.

Its luck, really, that Vega manages to see the snowball flying in her direction. Just barely managing to avoid being splattered, she takes a startled step back at the last moment, only to hear the shriek nearby as it strikes Alarissa. A mortified expression on her face, the Thraxian Princes moves to help, delicately, scoop and shuffle the snow off Her Grace. "My deepest apologies, Your Grace. I was so startled at the sight of a hurtling object, I didn't even think, I just moved out of the way."

Not allowing herself to lose focus, the lady of Grihem's Point watches the swaying movements of the nets carefully. Her climbing is disciplined, patient, to ensure she doesn't get thrown off or lose her footing, though she manages to take the lead -- scaling the net to the top -- as though moving to the rhythm of the swaying deck.

Grabbing ahold of the net rigging, Nova climbs up more humanly than lupinely, doing better with this particular feat and actually outdistancing most folks, except not Sanya who seems to stay ahead!

With Sir Flop and Lady Svoli, the grey mare seems to up nod her bridled face before letting it back down and seeming to be licking and chewing on nothing (not even a bit because the bridle does not have one, but does have some leather, split reins which have since dropped into the snow on either side). Meanwhile, Sir Floppington happily accepts whatever pets he can get whilst sometimes peering toward the horse then back up to Svoli.

Lottie made it to the top! Wait. She made it to the top. This realization sunk in as Lottie hoisted herself up onto the booms by way of doing what you're never supposed to do in these situations. Looking down. A second passed before Lottie dropped to hug the boom, scooching along it like a caterpillar and losing ground, though giving Rowenova ample opportunity to step right over her as she paused to untie sail bindings. At this point, getting down was more on her mind than staying ahead and she sure wasn't going to swing down... jumping just seemed insane... so this was the way it had to be!

Balance is not an issue here, no its not. She's been practicing the beams of the refinement center for months now, but knots. Erm. Mabelle finishes the net climb and balances herself on the beam. The first knot goes nicely and she thinks she's got this! But then she gets tuck with the second tie that just. wont. do.

Svoli lifts two fingers to her mouth to whistle encouragement at Lottie, hands never leaving Sir Floppington of the many scratchings, before falling back into murmured conversation.

Rian, the overworked, lovelorn seamstress arrives, following Vincenzo.

Svoli mutters, "She'll ... alright, you just have to ... her time, really. ... am so very sorry about your sister. It can ... hard being seperated ... your family."

Merek manages then to not succeed and goes spinning and careening while he does so as well.

Generally used to having to maintain balance in performances, the lady Sanya utilises her skills by remaining steady despite the uneveness of her ground. Unfastening the knot, keeping her composure throughout, she successfully reaches the second mast.

Vincenzo has joined the long bench.

Making sure not to squash Lottie, Nova lithely hops right over her before then snatching ahold of her own side of the ship rigging and quickly moving those ringed hands as she deftly unties the ship ropes, doing so as if she had some strange practice with knot tying/untying. Suspiciously so. Probably not for sailing matters, though! After getting the rope free, she suddenly nabs it within both hands and jumps off to swing forth toward that second mast like that daredevil wolf she is!

Svoli woots loudly, jumping to her feet and clapping for Rowenova as she goes swinging.

Raimon moves among the mask, struggling slightly with the nots, as he is not used to working with sails at all. But he manages just fine. Then to move to the other mast, he grips the rope in his hands, swinging across, hand over hand. Maybe not the best way, but impressive none the less.

When Svoli jumps up and starts clapping, Sir Floppington excitedly barks! Meanwhile, the grey mare right there nearby does not seem phased one bit by the excitable action going on. She does watch it with curious eyes, though!

Jared, an overworked-looking, nervous Apprentice Whisper arrives, delivering a message to Vincenzo before departing.

Is it really any surprise that Monique is good at untying knots? It's probably no surprise to anyone who has seen the Minx of the Marches rob something or someone. Those knots? They come undone pretty quickly, allowing the Greenmarch to catch up some.

Vincenzo makes his way to the event, his cloak up on his shoulders and a purple scarf wrapped all around his neck. Spying a vendor nearby selling chestnuts, he orders a bag and goes to watch the event underway while munching on warm treats.

Mabelle grumps a little bit, showing some competitive spirit as Monique just surpassed her a one step ahead, "How did you...", she mumbles working on the knots

Svoli ohs, as she notices the chestnut vendor, leaving the pair of horses and the pup to their own devices long enough to go get some before walking back to share them with her equine companions.

Lottie is overheard praising Alarissa: Wonderful event, per usual!

Lottie is overheard praising Vega: Lovely event, thank you!

Svoli mutters, "... sort of competition, I'm not sure ... what end. Sometimes I ... ... ... Oh, ... direction? Thank you."

The snow picks up, heavier, starting to make things much harder to see, people on the other platforms missing and falling, some thumping to the deck with bodily impacts, others into the snow, a few straight up abandoning their own attempts and some of the organizers at the other platforms struggle over to consult with Vega and Alarissa to see if they should put a pause on the event until the snow calms. A glance to Vega and then to the other organizers and shakes her head. "After this round, we can place a hold and wait out for the snow to die down some. Preserve the health of those partaking."

Not that those who are right in front of them seem to be faring too bad. Sanya gets knots undone with ease and her section of sail is loose and waiting for others to do their part. Raimon as well, his fingers used to gripping sowrds but gripping the boom easily enough. Rowenova too, they go swinging across to the other mast and work on knots there. Clearly these three are in the lead. But the baker isn't that far behind and soon she joins them and one by one so do the others. Monique in a blaze of scarlet as she makes her way from the back to the middle of the pack and Mabelle, a dark horse holds her own. Even her heels don't hinder her overly much, walking on the balls of her feet. It's Merek who succumbs to the mounting blizzard and finds himself dangling when he doesn't push off with enough force and has to take his time to work his weight before he can make it to the other mast.

Svoli is lucky, moving away, oblivious to the snowballs headed her way means all three of them plop harmlessly onto the snow, and Sir Floppington has an opportunity to chow down.

Raimon sees that Sanya is still ahead of him. There are several ways down from here. Perhaps he was frustrated from the fish the other day. Maybe the snow obscurred his vision. Maybe he's just to stubborn to allow things like gravity and possiblity of death deter him? Either which way, once Raimon has reached the other side he simple springs off the side to plummet to the ground. The big man drops like a stone, body going limp as he hits the ground. Continuing the motion he rolls forward to take the impact on his back and to disperse the energy across his body. He continues the roll springing up to his feet and rolling his shoulders with a huff

At the realization she's losing, Mabelle makes one last attempt to save her honour and the family's. She steps quickly over the beam, well balances and considers her options. Jumping on a nearby rope she starts sliding down at the cost of her hands chafing. Cant have those hands hurt. So she lets go of the rope and jumps the rest of the way down, landing wrong on her left foot in a wincing "Uff!". But she straightens, quickly, dignified and stubborn as she is only to realize.. she's almost the last one down after all. Defeated, she tries to keep a straight walk to the bench

Back down the ropes Monique goes. Much easy going down. Insert innuendo there. She glances up to see Mabelle hot on her heels, grinning fiercely. "Maybe you should look down!" she calls out to her friend, happily, scrambling to touch the ground once more.

Not trusting her willowy frame to survive the impact of such a fall, Sanya chooses the ropes as a method of dismounting. Though her growing fatigue becomes more visible, she manages to reach the end safely, and with a certain charm to her landing.

Merek makes the next one, and mmanages finishing up, beneath all others, but a success a way.

Monique is overheard praising Alarissa.

Monique is overheard praising Vega.

Sanya is overheard praising Alarissa.

Sanya is overheard praising Vega.

Svoli is overheard praising Alarissa.

Svoli is overheard praising Rowenova.

Merek is overheard praising Alarissa.

Sir Floppington snaps up a fallen snowball and happily crunches it between his sharp teeth. Meanwhile, the grey horse happily accepts a few chestnuts from Svoli's hand, taking care to not nibble the lady's fingers in the process. Meanwhile, over there at the ship situation, Nova haphazardly lands before snatching up another rope and then jumping down, her wiry weight bounced up ever so slightly there after running out of rope slack before she lets go and drops down, thankfully sticking a decent landing with knees bent. Then, the wolfy scout briefly bows before hopping up to her full height, dashing forth toward Sir Floppington, the grey mare, and Lady Svoli near them.

Mabelle has joined the long bench.

Could Vega look anymore proud as her husband is the first to the ground after completing all the obstacles? No, no she couldn't. Awaiting his arrival, she holds his cloak out for him to throw over his shoulders, sending a servant for a glass of hot mulled wine so he can start warming up once more.

Tilting her head up to look at Rowenova as she approaches, there is a moment's flicke of indecision on Svoli's features, before she pulls the wolfy scout into a one armed side hug, trying to pat at her back. If there is an explanation, she doesn't give it, violet eyed attention going back to the others leaving the boat.

Vincenzo has left the long bench.

Rian, the overworked, lovelorn seamstress have been dismissed.

Reaching the end, the bitter cold seems to hit Sanya, now all too aware of the lightness of her garb. Her retainers meet her halfway to provide her with the woolen cloak, which she proceeds to wrap around herself tightly, before returning to congratulate the competitors.

Sanya is overheard praising Raimon.

Sanya is overheard praising Rowenova.

Sanya is overheard praising Mabelle.

Sanya is overheard praising Monique.

Sanya is overheard praising Merek.

Although not expecting a greeting hug from Svoli, Nova actually accepts and even reciprocates, too. After all, the grey mare and Sir Flop seemingly vouch for their new friend, and the wolf scout easily trusts their good judgment! Snugging up Svoli, Nova stays quiet and peeks out from the eye sockets on her wolf pelt with the niveous, plentiful fur.

Sanya is overheard praising Lottie.

Raimon moves across the green to his wife, pulling his cloak back on. In fact, his normally impassive face might almost show a hint of pride. He accepts both the mulled wine and the belt. He bows to Alarissa before empting the contents of his glass.

Svoli mutters, "She misses her sister. You were ... swinging ... there, you almost looked ... you were flying!"

Mabelle rises from the bench and curtsies to both Alarissa and Vega, "This was ever enjoyable, thank you for holding it"

"Freezing, isn't it?" Monique comments to Sanya with a grin. "Though that certainly got my blood pumping. Will you be staying to enjoy the drinks?" the Greenmarch asks the other woman. "Monique Greenmarch," she adds, by way of friendly introduction.

"It's the only way I anticipate warming any time soon." Sanya comments with a small laugh. "Lady Sanya Grimhall." She introduces herself, with a kind smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you. And I can't think of a more exciting event."

Svoli winds up involved in whispered conversation with Rowenova, offering her a chestnut, too.

And across the finish line they come. One by one, Raimon pulling ahead of Sanya once his feet hit the deck. Thrax pulling ahead of Grimhall as seems to be the natural order. Though there's whoops and hollers for Sanya in as much as there is for Raimon when they do. The baker will have something to crow about later with warm food and more than a few people coming in to congratulate her. Rowneova who had placed first with the rowing finds herself coming in middle of the pack. But she likes being in a pack so that's a consolation. The scarlet Greenmarch is there though on her heels, a contrast and easily seen in the driving snow, which likely helps Mabelle, or distracts Mabelle. When she makes her way to a bench there is a mercy there waiting with an offer to help and look at the injured ankle. Merek comes in last, dead last in this heat.

The calls go out for a break, to see if the snows will die down enough and people peel away from the platforms and navigate to braziers and booze to wait out the storm for the next round of climbers.

Nova keeps up the one-armed hug with Svoli, briefly pets the grey horse and then pets Flop, and then she carefully accepts the offered chestnuts with a quiet thankyou.