[Feigning that the snowballs have done some kind of critical damage, Gambit rolls backward in the snow.
And then comes back up with a snowball in each hand. One he deliberately lets go wide, the other he holds onto like a baseball pitcher contemplating the throw.]
no subject
And then comes back up with a snowball in each hand. One he deliberately lets go wide, the other he holds onto like a baseball pitcher contemplating the throw.]
Your move, mademoiselle.