[Vyng winks at the mothbird. Is that a hair pencil in your pocket, or are you just happy to see him?

At the shrike's question, though, he scratches his cheek.]

I dunno, am I? [Pfft. As if Vyng ever thinks things through.] Uhh. Could you make, like...a disk of snow float? It wouldn't even need to be all that dense. I could even handle making the disk itself.