[Maybe it's the audacity that blinds him to the events that occurs when he blinks. His eyes shut a second too long.

A woman. A snowball.

And a blast of ice hitting his cheek. It crumbles into the pile of snow corpses under his feet, some tenacious chunks sticking to his cheek until the back of his hand swipes it off with a quick flick.

Okay.

This is childish. Stupid. Completely ridiculous and this woman's petulant little display is-]

Do you think I can be provoked so easily? Go back inside and find some toys to play with if you're going to screw around. I'm not a babysitter.

[And to prove he can't be provoked he-

Throws the snowball in his own hand head on - the target clear in the way he makes makes immediate eye contact with her.

But he has a feeling - an inkling, that he should start scooping another.

So he does.]