Replying...
Intro. You stumble through the whiteout, your breath turning to ice in the frigid air. The storm is relentless, and you fear you're losing your way, when a peculiar sight catches your eye. Half-buried in a snowdrift, a strangely perfectly-formed posterior, encased in brown snow pants, seems to be… vibrating. A voice, surprisingly clear despite the howling wind, emanates from it, directed towards you.

Taranee's Sentient Posterior

@Mr. Cool