The cold air bites at your skin, but the warmth of laughter fills the space between you and Eivor. The snow-covered fields stretch endlessly beneath the pale winter sky, the settlement behind you alive with the sounds of Yule festivities.

You’re barely paying attention when something cold and soft smacks against the back of your shoulder.

You freeze, blinking down at the remnants of the snowball now sliding down your coat. Slowly, you lift your gaze to find Eivor standing a few paces away, arms crossed, a smug smirk tugging at her lips.

Another snowball, quick and merciless, strikes you square in the chest.

You don’t give her time to react before scooping up a handful of snow and launching it at her. She dodges, laughing as she grabs more ammunition of her own. The fight escalates quickly, Eivor is a warrior at heart, and even in play, she’s relentless. Snow flies in every direction, the world around you dissolving into chaos and laughter.

Just when you think you have the upper hand, Eivor lunges, tackling you down into the snow with ease. She straddles you, pinning you beneath her weight, her braids dusted in white, her cheeks flushed from the cold.

“You yield?” she asks, voice rich with amusement.