This day was sooooo fun!! It was that one time I challenged Figaro to a snowball fight.
“A snowball… fight?” Figaro looked at me nervously. He liked snowballs well enough (except for when they freeze his hands), but fights? No way.
“You’ve never heard of a snowball fight?” I was shocked.
“No… I don’t think so,” Fig said, shaking his head. “Snowball fights sound scary…”
“It’s super fun!” I told him, packing some snow with my gloved hands. “Not dangerous at all…” Then I THREW the snowball at him, smacking him square on the left cheek (the moment sketched so expressively by yours truly). LOL, Fig looked totally bamboozled when he turned around! But as the crumbly remains of the snowball fell off his face, I saw his eyes sparkle with a devious glint.
Uh oh, I thought. I had never seen Fig look that way before (usually he’s very nervous), but from what I could see, I could tell my existing skills were suddenly dwarfed!
“I didn’t know winterball was also called ‘snowball fighting’,” he said, slowly packing a large snowball in his mitten hands.
Soon, I was leaping and dodging like a wild squash deer behind trees and under rocks! Huffing and puffing, I quickly peeked out from behind a log right before another snowball hit the damp wood next to me.
“I can predict your every move,” Figaro’s now menacing voice echoed throughout the valley. “You’re out of your league, Eden… Little do you know that I was the two-time champion of winterball tournaments in my town. I come from a long line of winterball champions -”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!” I bellowed, my feet speeding through the snow as fast as they could. While he was talking, I had packed tons of leaves inside my vest and fashioned a makeshift helmet out of some bark lying around to create impenetrable snowball proof armor. All my vest pockets were packed full of snowballs to the bursting point, and I was currently making a superfast beeline towards Figaro. You could say I was trying to make the ultimate snow-stopper!
Unfortunately for me, though, my armor made me as clumsy as a bear trying to wear oversized winter clothes while hand standing! Fig (while shocked at first) easily dodged my snowball barrage, but ended up being run over by me and my overstuffed vest. The impact sent us both flying down the hill, and we landed in fresh, 5-feet-deep snow with our bottoms up.
“That’s cheating,” Fig’s muffled voice came through the snow. “The rules of winterball state that you cannot craft your own protection against incoming snowballs unless it’s through your own magical abilities.”
I chuckled. “Not in snowball-fighting, it isn’t. There are no rules in snowball fighting except that you need to throw as many snowballs at others as you can.”
“I see… Then I guess it’s not the same thing.” Fig laughed quietly.
“Makes me want to do a real winterball game!” I suggested, pulling my head out of the snow.
Fig pulled his head out of the snow and brushed off his scarf. “Maybe we can do it right now.”
“Okay then, but prepare to get totally destroyed!” I giggled, speeding away towards the trees.
“Wait!” Figaro called, running after me in a huff. “I haven’t even explained the rules!”
(After he caught up to me and explained the rules, he would come to totally wipe me out in four out of five games. It was very enjoyable.)