Connor had fun for a long time with Sora. The little werewolf, who had never played human games before, was particularly curious about the construction of the snow werewolf. The agent's fingers were stiff and frozen. Without gloves, he had been forced to gather the snow and sculpt it with his bare hands, alternating with Greg to give his fingers time to warm up and prevent frostbite.
Despite the difficulty, they had succeeded in building a passable snow werewolf. To be fair, the sculpture was bumpy, and the branches they had planted on either side of the ball that served as the trunk, made the whole thing look like a scarecrow rather than a werewolf. As he pouted in frustration, Connor heard the laughter of the little omega who was in heaven. He shrugged and lifted her onto his shoulders.
