Winter Warble - 7
December 20, 2021
An all-out snow brawl!
Song for the Page: Freezeezy Peak - Grant Kirkhope (Banjo-Kazooie: Re-Jiggyed)
“Stop being so good at this, Fletch!”
“You have strength on your side, I need to have good aim for it to be even slightly fair!” Diana called back, voice bright with laughter as snowballs flew, each of hers hitting their marks with increasing good humor as a quiet baritone hum full of bardic magic knocked a branchful of snow onto Sven’s head, as threatened.
“Vengeance,” the goliath rumbled, crowned in white fluff, “will be mine.”
Merlow clapped his hands over his mouth, the laugh spluttering out between his fingers as Sven picked up Feliks and tossed them at Nocturne, who swerved out of the way immediately. “Do I look like a snowball to you?” the gnome raged from the snowbank that had caught their flight with a gentleness Merlow’s hadn’t been kind enough to bestow upon him. The glow of orange magic, oh so slyly gifted by Sven, helped cushion their impact. “Buffoon! Barbarian!”
The coat slipped a little from his shoulders. Absently, Merlow tucked his arms into the sleeves and did up the buttons. Something about it being Nocturne’s coat had driven the chill clean from his bones, though nothing could get rid of the discomfort of wet clothes underneath that.
He glanced down the path they’d been taking. There was the rise they’d first wandered down to begin with. Behind it would rest the wagons, possibly a campfire. Definitely warmth and dry clothes. Theoretically, he could just wander down there himself and leave them to their snowball fight.