[ME] icy what you did there

Theea

and let the words fall out

I yelp loud enough to spook a raven when a chunk of my wall explodes and the follow-through nails me square in the chest. Snow sprays everywhere, a glittering halo; thank the gods for layers, because none of it snakes down my shirt. “You’ll pay for that!” I bark toward Deimos , already grinning because, frankly, he deserves it.

Damien fires something back and I whip around, beam at him like sunshine even as his shot slaps into what’s left of my fort and showers me again. I can’t help it—I laugh, big and bright, bells over the braziers. “Cheap shot!” (It absolutely wasn’t. Mine was.)

I snatch one of my ready-mades, weigh it quick, and let it fly at Damien. I lead the throw just a hair for his movement—same instinct as knives, only friendlier.

Then I drop, knees in powder, arms scooping like a determined little plow as I haul loose snow back into my battered rampart. Pack, pack, smooth; I tuck my shoulder in and rebuild the curve to my height. A quick peek over the lip—there’s my culprit. I suck in a sharp breath, set my stance, and arc a high, hopeful lob toward Deimos’s position, trying to drop it right over his cover like a blessing from above.

honestly, i want to see you be brave