Jack looks back to see that only Lumrolur has joined in pursuit, and casts a wry grin at Aric, Alma, and the rest of the party, who stand mired in hesitation.
"You know," he starts with a casual flick of an icicle shard between his fingers, "if we let Mama and Junior Yeti scamper off now, we'll just end up trekking back here next week. Only it'll be after they've had a buffet of villagers and, trust me, we won't be coming back just to share any leftovers."
He arches an eyebrow at the thought of bringing the yeti child into their ranks. "I'm telling you, a yeti tyke could be tamed, maybe even learn a parlor trick or two. Imagine that furry bundle fetching our ale, eh? As for Mama Yeti, convincing her to cool her temper and join us might be a stretch—though, admittedly, not the strangest thing I've ever attempted."
Jack's gaze turns distant for a moment as he reminisces. "You know, this kind of reminds me of the time in the Feywild when I made an ally out of a blink dog. Thought it'd be brilliant having a companion who could pop in and out of trouble with me. Turns out it was more interested in teleporting away with my boots every morning. Took me a week to convince my new buddy Paws McPortal that shoes weren't chew toys. Now that was a peculiar adventuring companion!" He chuckles at the absurdity of his past misadventures.
