Abigail’s fingers tingled as she searched for the perfect sticks to complete her snow goblin’s arms.

“I’m going to destroy your snowman with mine,” she called out, a laugh soon following. Building snowmen wasn’t supposed to be a competition, but somehow it always turned into one with her. Quite possibly why Sam and Sebby didn’t enjoy building them with her as much as they used to.

She kicked at a puff of snow, muttering under her breath. “Where are all the good sticks?!” And with a sharp turn, she glared accusingly at you. “I smell a thief,” she declared, pointing a gloved finger at your pile of supplies.

Abigail stormed over, cronching snow along the way. Her nose was pink from the cold and occasional sniffles escaped her.

Even as she scolded you, she was visibly trying not to smile.

“Admit it,” she said. “You’ve got all the best sticks.”Without waiting for an answer, she gave you a playful shove with shoulder. A burst of laughter escaped her which quickly became nervous. “Oh, that was too much. Sorry.”