Hushed Willows get me drinkin' that moonshine

he certainly hadn't expected that.
he had turned his head almost directly into the cloud of snow that now blocked his vision. he squints and tries his best to dodge it, giving a frantic shake of his head and blinking away the crystals, lip threatening to curl into a snarl —
bird chasing? ah. it was only kyrell.
well, i was, he snorts in response, scrubbing his cheek with his wrist. you're lucky you didn't get smacked upside the head.
it was playful, the way it came out, but irritation hid in the depths of his tone. the only person in recent times he'd even so much as let himself feel loose and mischievous around like this was — well, his wife.
you goin' around blowin' snow in folks' eyes, then?