"Do I have anything better?" Anders' muttering is background noise to his efforts to build more ammo. "I'll show you better."
With each new snowball he molds into shape, he gets better and faster at the repetitive action--he likes to think he's a quicker learner that way, and there's plenty to learn now that he's free of the Circle's stone walls--but Alistair is faster still. Before he can follow up with another one, Alistair lets fly again.
Nearly forgetting he's holding a snowball in one hand, he puts up his other arm to protect his face, careful not to squish it. This is the one. This is the one that'll show that bush who's boss.
"I'm underwhelmed!" Anders squints, lines up the angles in his head, and pitches a curving ball that should, assuming he'd thrown true, skim along the top of the bush like a stone skipped on water.
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With each new snowball he molds into shape, he gets better and faster at the repetitive action--he likes to think he's a quicker learner that way, and there's plenty to learn now that he's free of the Circle's stone walls--but Alistair is faster still. Before he can follow up with another one, Alistair lets fly again.
Nearly forgetting he's holding a snowball in one hand, he puts up his other arm to protect his face, careful not to squish it. This is the one. This is the one that'll show that bush who's boss.
"I'm underwhelmed!" Anders squints, lines up the angles in his head, and pitches a curving ball that should, assuming he'd thrown true, skim along the top of the bush like a stone skipped on water.