It had been snowing for days and we’d built snow fortresses and quite a long stretch of Hadrian’s snowy wall as well. The Girls were Valkyrie’s warriors, the boys Barbarians (no surprise there). We’d prepared hundreds of snowballs and the rules were simple: three hits meant you were dead. Man, it was a battle! Everyone was screaming and yelling, the dead claimed to be undead and the sky was filled with snowballs flying in both directions. We fought like frosty lions, but after a while we had to withdraw. While running for my life, I slipped and fell. I tried to get up, but one of the Girls landed on top of me, rubbing my face in the snow. My fellow Barbarians fled the scene. The bastards. The Girls were now all over me, shoving snow up my jacket, my shirt and even my pants. A chilly experience, to say the least. They dragged my to their fortress and I was their stone cold prisoner for hours. So please: let is now, let is snow, let it snow.