Page 65 of Honeythorn
“I thought that was for the rain.”
“Well, yes. That too.”
Milan laughed at the ridiculousness of the Northern weather but decided to make the most of it as he ran with the dogs, giggling madly at their antics.
“It’s so beautiful,” he sighed, stretching his arms to the side and tilting his head up. “Isn’t it, Hus—ow!” Milan flinched as something hit his back.
He turned around only to see Raphael a few meters from him, a rather mischievous grin on his face. Milan narrowed his eyes.
“What was that?”
Raphael’s response was only to bend down, scooping up some snow before pressing it into a ball with his gloved hands.
“What are you doing? Don’t you dare,” Milan warned, immediately shrieking and covering his face as Raphael threw it at him. “You scoundrel!”
Raphael snorted and went to lean down again, but Milan rushed towards him, grabbing his hands.
“No—tell me how to do that, you cheat.”
Raphael laughed but acquiesced.
Milan looked at his own ball, lumpy and misshapen, and then at Raphael’s, which was perfectly round. “Yours is perfect. Can I see it?” he asked, holding one of his hands out.
Raphael, being an utter fool, handed him the snowball. Milan grinned evilly, and Raphael only had time to widen his eyes and shield his face before he was being pelted by snowballs—and Milan did not hit lightly.
“Die, rascal! Perish under my might!” Milan crowed, scooping down to grab more snow before running away, the dogs chasing after him.
It would be generous to call what unfolded a battle, for it looked more like two tipsy men flushed with laughter, haphazardly throwing snowballs at each other, which the two dogs would chase and try to snap out of the air.
“Victory shall bemine,” Milan shouted as bloodlust blinded him, tackling Raphael onto the ground.
Raphael looked winded as Milan straddled him. Pax jumped on Milan as Lima started licking Raphael’s face.
“Do you concede?” Milan giggled, trying to get Pax off as Raphael did the same with Lima.
“Yes—mercy! Just—Lima, please, I know where that tongue has been.”
Milan laughed, pushing Lima away gently. “And mine?” he asked cheekily before leaning down for a kiss—which he immediately regretted. “Urgh! Dog slobber.”
“That’s what you get.” Raphael hauled them upright, Milan stumbling before Raphael caught him. “I think it’s time I show you the wonders of making snow people.”
Milan’s eyes widened. From the way the dogs barked, they agreed.
*****
It was one of the North’s great pleasures to sit in front of a fireplace, leaning against Raphael with a cup of melted chocolate and milk in hand.
“Who invented this? It’s better than a crawler.”
Raphael snorted. “I don’t know.”
“They should be given a ladyship. Or lordship. Whichever applies.”
“I’ll suggest it to the court.”
“Make sure you do.”
Milan stuck as much of his face as he could—which wasn’t a lot, he had to admit—into the cup when he finished, trying to lick the remnants from the inside.
