PV Snow and More Closed

Rose was tired of staying inside. She hadn’t been outside the whole entire day, which had been, in a way, suffocating for Rose. Being outside nowadays, though, was considerably harder for Rose than other people since her body sported much less body fat than most, which resulted in much less body heat than most people. So, basically, she got a lot colder a lot faster. She had recently made up with her mom, and had been ecstatic about just about everything. Including the peace offering of s’mores stuff her mother had sent her. She had set off across the snowy white grounds, the bag slung around her shoulder, planning to make some s’mores with the supplies given to her. The snow crunched under her feet rhythmically, and she was bouncing just a little bit.

When she was kicked in the face with some snow. Wiping snow from her face, Rose turned to see the boy who had kicked it. His face made it clear he hadn’t meant to do it, but Rose simply couldn’t walk away. The redhead’s expression turned to mock offense. She was clearly not mad, as she smirked at him, leaning down to gather some snow in her hands. “Oh, you’re not getting away with that,” she said playfully in her American accent, hurling the snow his way. Unless he was quick or agile enough to dodge, it would hit him in his chest.

Michael didn't know why but he couldn't move as she gathered snow in her hand. He frowned wondering what she was doing, but soon found out as the girl threw it at him, hitting him in the chest. He gasps as the cold snow broke apart some getting into the robes he was wearing. He was shocked as he took in the feeling of the snow sliding off of him.

Before he could think his hand was full of the snow that was once under him, it melting in his heated hand. He knew he would problary regret what he was able to do, but the feeling he felt as he did it, as he imagined what it would be like when he did, was enough for him. He smiled as he pulled his hand back and throw the ball at the girl, only she was faster than he thought. The ball was still flying through the air as she ducked, and it continced on until it hit a boy that was walking behind them both.

Miller swallowed as it hit him, most liking hurting as his strength was more than what it would look like because of his little furry problem.

I'm sorry if this is not coherent, I haven't been able to think straight in about two days

Earl loved days like this. Where he could open his eyes and see the clear blue sky above him, feel the pale sunlight dancing on his skin. The air was cold, painfully so, but that didn't stop our young boy from taking in a deep breath as he walked outside the castle. He'd spent the entire morning hunched over a book, ink stains on his hands and cramping fingers serving as proof of his hard work.

Boots barely left a mark in the snow as he passed by, small frame swaying in the bitter wind on his way to the other side of the campgrounds. Where was he going? He didn't know; that didn't appear take the determination out of his tiny figure. Earl wasn't wearing a coat, not because he was an edgy 'I like wearing shorts in winter' type of kid, but because no one had reminded him to put one on. As a result, his white jeans were getting soaked all the way up to his knees, pale skin turning a rosy color.

The tune to 'Work' by Fifth Harmony was being hummed underneath his breath as he walked, making him blind to the world around him. Which wasn't a particularly smart thing to do, especially at Hogwarts. Seeing as he was practically asking for something to go wrong, it should have come as no surprise when the snowball hit him square in the chest, sending him stumbling backwards. A squeal, a miffled 'Humpf' which followed him falling down on his butt, and finally, acceptance of what had just happened. Would a snowball have sent a normal person flying? Probably not, but he'd intentionally made himself lighter before he left the building.

Laying there dazed, looking up at the sky, a fit of giggles bubbled from somewhere inside his stomach. "No fair," he called out, climbing to his feet 'unsteadily' one hand already gathering up snow for payback. "Honestly, give a chap a warning nex-" before he finished the word, a snowball was hurled back at his attacker. A golden haired boy with a mischievous smirk, and the redhead on his right. "Ha," he shouted when it got him in the shoulder, launching a second handful of snow at the girl.

@Rose Moon @Michael Miller

Michael didn't expect the reaction from the boy he hit, especially the fact the boy didn't seem to care that such a small child made the snow hit him that hard. Mike quickly ducked when the snow started flying in his directions, throwing himself to the right and nearly crawling til he got himself back up as he tried to find somewhere to hid to not get hit before he was ready.

The boy saw a tree stump, big enough for him to sit behind, and he did just that. He turned and looked out at the others. He smiled and made a big snowball, aiming it at the girl, who would be a easir target as he was closer than the boy.

He began to laugh as the snowball war began, having never done anything like this before. He hoped this wouldn't be a one time thing, that the other students wouldn't just pretend it never happened when they figured out want he was, and everything else about him.

He was out of breath from his laughter when he looked back, just to see a snowball heading in his direction. Oh boy, the war has began and not even werewolf sense was helping him now.

@Earl Gray
@Rose Moon

A snowball was thrown back her way in retaliation, but Rose was able to sidestep out of the way. She didn't duck, even though it would be most's reaction to having something thrown at them. Snowballs had the ability to slope down, and Rose knew if she went to the side, the snowball was a lot less likely to be a curveball. Unless her opponent was a master snowball fighter, which honestly wasn't her first impression. So she didn't duck, she took fast steps to the side to get away from the snowball, dodging it effectively.

But she heard the impact too soon and whipped around to see who it had hit. A guy with pink-dyed hair, either a first or second year. She didn't think he looked older than twelve, and neither did the original perpetrator, who actually looked barely old enough to be at Hogwarts. He wasn't wearing as much as Rose, but maybe that's because several years of reminders from her mother rang in her mind every time she went outside- wear a coat, wear a sweater, it's gonna be cold outside, put some layers on... et cetera. Apparently, the snowball had knocked the newest arrival to the snowball fight on the ground with a crunch as the snow under him was packed closer together under his weight.

As she did with most things, Rose's mind convinced herself it was her fault he had gotten hit with the snowball, and her fault if he got mad. She was about to burst into an apology when the pink-haired boy revealed he was as in an equally good mood as Rose, joking about getting hit and then packing snow into his hands.

Rose realized it was okay, which stopped herself from apologizing to him for no reason, and gathered up her own snowball to hurl at the new arrival to the battle that raged, squeaking and turning her shoulder toward the boys when she was pelted with snow from both of her enemies in the fight. She leaned down to grab some more snow to get them back for that, laughing lightheartedly as she did. Her aim was a little off on both targets, but it would clip them both unless they evaded her deadly weapons being hurled at them. She tried to duck away from their own attacks, but sadly they had better aim than Rose. Her aim had always been a fault of hers, something she always needed a little longer to get right.

@Michael Miller @Rose Moon

Time seemed to slip away, flying on the cold breeze which picked up snowflakes and blew them in their faces. Their very flushed, red faces. Giggles and laughter resounded throughout the campgrounds, as they ducked underneath snowballs and slid in the slush. Earl had managed to gain ground on the red headed girl, making it easier to aim. Whenever a snowball hit him, he was launched backwards about a meter, making it his mission to stay on his feet but falling down more times than not.

There was something strange about his newfound friends. One of them, the other boy, moved just a bit too fast, his reflexes far better than that of a normal person. And the girl she always managed to notice him whenever he inched closer. She'd be ducking to avoid getting hit by the other boy, and manage to throw a handful of snow in his face anyway, seeing him at the corner of her eye.

A smirk. A mischievous grin. And Earl kneeled down, closing his eyes in focus. His skin was already fairly light, considering it very nearly blended in with the snow. His clothing, white skintight jeans and a gray coat, were also doing him favors. The only thing making his life hard...the fluffy pink hair. A few seconds worth of scrunched up eyebrows later, his form blurred over, making him look like a badly pixelated image. And then he was back, hair the exact same shade of brilliant white as the snow.

Dumping his coat to reveal a shirt a lighter shade of white, Earl slowly came up behind the other two kids. They were ridiculously close for a snowball fight, the only thing separating them being a patch of ice.

Which was why it was rather unfortunate when Earl lost his balance.

He crashed into the girl, somehow sending them both skidding across the ice, and knocking over the boy. The result? I tangled pile of limbs. A really wet, pile of limbs. In the moment of shock, Earl's hair changed back to pink.

Wordcount: 344

The extremely dangerous war raged on- all three sides were fearing for their lives while displaying overwhelming bravery. Over and over again, they were barely escaping the inevitable death that would arrive soon enough to their lives- that would end their lives with the sour taste of defeat. Every time the weapons would hit them, their stamina to keep fighting would drop. Eventually… soon… it would all be over...

Ha. Not really.

The friendly snowball fight echoed with happy and playful giggles from all three students- even Rose. She kind of felt childish doing it, but it felt… good to feel childish. To put aside all polite things and just be happy while you hurled snowballs at complete strangers, hoping you would come out victorious, but it wasn’t required for you to have fun or feel good about yourself. Rose’s smile didn't falter once over the time that they threw snowballs at each other. Rose’s sharp eyes always seemed to notice the snowballs from the boys before they hit her, and she was able to dodge them more than they did. Even though her aim wasn’t as accurate as her new acquaintances’ were.

But what she hadn’t noticed was the pink-haired boy as he shed his coat (it was freezing- why in the world would he do that?!) and creep up on her. One way or another, Rose wasn’t exactly sure how, but the three of them swiftly ended up in a pile on the ground. A laugh escaped from Rose’s mouth, bright and clear. It was fairly long as well, but it faded gradually. Rose was the first to untangle herself from the boys and offer a hand to them if they were still on the ground, the last scraps of her laugh lingering. “That was so much fun,” she said, sighing happily to expel the rest of her laugh.

And an idea popped into her brain, and she vocalized it. Her voice was gentle and carried an American accent, though she could still be understood. “Hey, I was on my way to the Campgrounds to roast some marshmallows since my mom sent me some stuff to make s’mores. I wouldn’t want to do it all by myself- would you guys like to join me?” she offered. There was just something about the two of them that made her relax. Rose walked over to pick up the bag that was slightly hidden in the snow- the one she had dropped earlier that held all of the precious supplies to make s’mores.

The snow ball fight was fun something he hadn't had in a while. He might be covered in snow, and slowly getting too cold, but he still laid in the snow besides the other students, giggling. It reminded of him of the first time he seen, and remembered, snow. He was young of course, but he still remembered how cold it was.

He was only 3 at the time, no wolf in his brain, and was at his grandparents, he woke up to the ground covered in a layer of snow. His grandfather took him out, and they made a snow man. He remembered putting the buttons on it. He remembered his first snow ball fight, starting when his grandmother came out and started to throw them at his grandpa. The young boy grabbed a hand full and threw it at his grandmother, giggling as he did. He missed them days. He missed them.

Mic wiped his eyes, tears had started to build up at the thought of his grandparents. He was starting to love the little group that was created. He was pulled from his thought at the mention of marshmallows and . .

"What in the world is a s’mores?"

Rose gasped dramatically. “You don’t know what a s’more is?!” She was clearly only joking, just teasing him. But really, what kind of child didn’t know what a s’more was? “So- you take a marshmallow- and you- well, it’s a little complicated to explain. You put it in between graham crackers, but with chocolate! It’s not just a food- it’s an experience,” she tried to explain- her brain just wasn’t keen on doing too deep thinking at that moment, so she waved it off. “I guess you’re learning today, huh?”

Then her gaze turned to the pink-haired boy. “Where’s your coat?” she asked, scrunching her shoulders up and sticking her icy hands in her pockets, as if trying to gather up her body warmth into one spot. “It’s freezing- you should put a coat on, silly.” Rose herself was wearing at least four layers, and she was still cold, especially in her face and the tips of her fingers. How was he, not wearing much more than his pale pants and shirt, not colder than Rose was?

“Come on,” she gestured to the boys by tipping her head, walking toward the campgrounds. She would find a good place in the snow, her bag and the sticks she had gathered for the campfire under her arm. Rose would dig down a little bit, making a quick shelter big enough for her, the two boys, and the future fire to be sheltered from the icy wind- the campfire was going to go out fairly quickly in a cold day like this, especially because of the wind. It didn’t take her long to set up the campfire with the sticks she had gotten, pointing her wand in the middle and muttering, “Incendio,” to create a fire.

“Okay, so you gotta- you gotta roast the marshmallow first,” she said, opening the bag. Inside were the roasting pole thingies, the marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers.