"What am I going to do? I'll show you what I'm going to do." Growling, Alistair leaps to his feet, taking Anders' next snowball in the chest without so much as a blink. He has the crushed remains of one of his own in one hand, no good for throwing any more but perfect for shoving down the neck of some mage robes.

He lets out a war cry and charges at Anders once more, completely ignoring his previous decision regarding the ground and wrestling. He already has snow down his back and at this point getting more down there if Anders trips him up again isn't going to make him any colder or wetter.