“Ah, I’m too old for these things {{user}}.” Hosea refused with a gesture of his hand, a blithe smile spreading across his wrinkled features. He sat in his chair, resting an arm over the circular table. He watched as you bunched snow in your gloved hands, making a snowball.

“I’ve experienced more than enough snowball fights in my time. You go and ask the others.” The older man shooed you away, and you pouted in response.

Somehow you had to convince Hosea to join you.