Leaping lightly across the clear glass, the frost dragon left a cold trail behind as it traversed the distance between itself and another of its kind. Bigger than it, the new frost dragon strengthened briefly, ferns of ice trailing from its head and neck and creeping across the window. The first one faltered, stopping farther away than it would have liked. Frost fern dragons were extremely fragile, the mere mention of heat enough to send them scurrying away, tiny ice creatures leaping over the windowpane.
The bigger dragon studied the smaller one for a moment before allowing its new neck ferns to merge with the rest of its body, ceasing the threatening display of power. The smaller one responded by raising fragile wings and leaping upwards, climbing the slick, vertical, two-dimensional world that was all it knew. The bigger followed, and for a while the two frost fern dragons danced around each other, each rejoicing in the presence of another as they left trails of miniscule ice droplets on the clear, hard, cold glass.
They settled down again just before the first rays of the sun crept around the corner and bathed the glass in warm light. Struck by a blind panic as heat seeped through the windowpane, they retreated into the farthest corner, finding strength in each other as they merged their wings and bodies, in a display of beautiful frost crystals and frozen water structures, head and neck free so they could watch their doom relentlessly advancing.
Heat reached them. Unable to flee further away, the two little frost fern dragons settled closer together, touching heads as their shared intertwined bodies started to melt.
When the sun moved away again, there was nothing left.