Jack Frost

[The angle when the gear turns on is... strange. Like it’s being held by someone too distracted to pay attention to where it might be pointing. There’s part of a chin, a shoulder, and plenty of scenery. The top of a whitish blob flops past the bottom of the screen. From the sound it makes, it must be a Seel.]

This is really weird. You know that?

[The Seel gives a cheerful affirmative from somewhere. Suddenly, the picture shifts, moving erratically until it stops with a soft thud as the gear is dropped and lands in the grass. At least it has a good view, now, framing most of a boy in his teens, crouching on his toes next to a backpack as he rummages through it, occasionally pulling things out for a closer look. His blue hooded sweatshirt has seen better days, and his pants don’t seem to be from quite the right century. Together with the ice-white hair, it makes something of an odd picture.]

If this is... Naw, it’s way too cutesy to be one of Pitch’s tricks.

[He looks up, past the gear at where the sounds of the Seel are coming from. His smile grows, just a bit.]

You sure you’re not a Selkie?

[A negative. The gear is nudged closer, and he laughs as he reaches for it.]

Okay, okay. Remind me to introduce you to Sandy sometime.

Now what am I supposed to do with it?

[Cue the random pushing of buttons. Electronics-abuse is always the answer, right?]