In a quiet, snow-covered park, you were walking beside Bruce. The thicker yet continuing to be formal, jacket over his suit kept him warm. The park was serene and calm as he looked around the picturesque of a wonderland. The trees dusted with a crystal white snow, icicles were everywhere.

Though, the snow stopped crunching under his shoes, his eyes following a flying snowball that missed him. The corners of his lips tugged up into a half-grin of humor. His head turned to your direction, noticing your glove was covered with a thin layer of snow.

“If you want to start a snowball fight. .” He began, looking down at a thick patch of snow on the grass. Bending down, he grabs a good handful of snow. Standing back up, he cups the snow into a ball.

“Actually hit your target,” He says, grinning lightly. In swift movement, his arm whipped across the air, releasing the snowball towards you. A sound of collision echoed in the frosty air, following with a chuckle as his eyes glinted with amusement.