Snow!

[tu_vas_triompher]

Snow! It came on suddenly, didn't it? But maybe that's normal here. It had been snowy when Feuilly first arrived; he remembers barreling around outside in it, in his June clothing, hugging himself with his hands tucked up under his arms to keep warm, too excited by the strangeness to go inside--

That same excitement simmers in him all morning while he goes about his self-imposed schedule of work, and only after he has finished his Latin lesson does he hurry over to Harry's room. No Harry there, but the dogs are in: Feuilly gets their leashes on and bundles along outdoors. It seems very likely that Harry's already there.

Comments

[harryhotspur]

Harry is already outside!

He is still bundled up in the accoutrements Bar provided: a massively puffy coat, and a pom-pom snowman hat.

Snow isn't necessarily anything new to him, but he hasn't had the chance since-- before he can remember, practically, since he was a very small child, to view it as anything other than a massive inconvenience.

So he's throwing snowballs at a tree, obviously.

[tu_vas_triompher]

Feuilly spots him right away in the enormous bright coat. But the dogs have found something more interesting by far: the grounds are covered with footprints, not only human-shaped but apparently from birds and some large cat, and hundreds of odd hand-like prints that Feuilly can't guess at. Well--all right, dogs. Have fun. He lets them off the leashes, and runs heavily along to join Harry.

His own coat is nowhere near as exciting. It's dark wool, impeccably petit-bourgeois, clashing slightly with his workman's cap. But it's warm.

[harryhotspur]

"Ah, Feuilly!" Harry says brightly, turning at the sound of someone crunching towards him.

Then he throws a snowball at him. (He just aims for the chest, he's not that mean.)

[tu_vas_triompher]

It doesn't take him by surprise. He doesn't quite manage to dodge, but he blocks it with his arm--and then stoops quickly to make a snowball of his own. War? War!

...or truce, if Harry wants to stop to say hello.

[harryhotspur]

Yes, hello, hello is good. Harry trots close enough to theoretically embrace, but the strange puffy sleeves seem to be preventing him from actually doing it.

"--how dost thou?"

[tu_vas_triompher]

Feuilly settles for thumping him happily on the (puffy) shoulder. "I'm all right. I wasn't expecting snow! But it's beautiful. It was like this when I first came here. But--um. That's a, an interesting coat? --Oh! Oh, and the hat, I like the hat."

[harryhotspur]

"The Bar did give them me," Harry says, now feeling a little more dubious about the whole ensemble. "I know not in what time or country they are customary. But they are passing warm."

[tu_vas_triompher]

"It looks it." He pokes Harry's arm. "It really does. They didn't have anything like this in my time." And wouldn't it have been nice? Even though it produces a look that's nothing like the fashionable silhouette of the 1830s.

[harryhotspur]

"Nor mine, in truth. And naught like to this," he adds, running his hand down the lapel of Feuilly's coat. "Wool, yes, but not in such a shape. But!" He gestures to the landscape. "What thinkest thou of this? Have they much snow in Paris?"

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Oh--heh, well. I didn't have a coat like this until I came here. When I--when I got here--I was dressed for June weather, of course--" He breaks off, laughing at the memory. "--um. It snows in Paris, but not much--"

If he looks like he's about to dart in and snatch at Harry's hat, it's because he is. And run away with it, if he can.

[harryhotspur]

Harry is not paying attention to his hat, though he does wonder why Feuilly suddenly looks so shifty. He's regretting leaving his snowball stockpile behind, and glances over his shoulder towards it.

[tu_vas_triompher]

YAH! HAT THEFT!

Feuilly snatches and flees, fully expecting recapture within seconds.

[harryhotspur]

Ohhhh no. Harry is off in hot pursuit, and because the snow is quite thick by this point, he goes straight in for a tackle.

[tu_vas_triompher]

And it works, of course. They go down in a puff of snow and flailing; but Feuilly keeps the hat clutched tight to his chest. If Harry wants his head covered he'll have to fight for it.

(Or take Feuilly's cap.)

[harryhotspur]

Honor demands that Harry Reclaim His Hat. Or possibly that's just a better pretense for wrestling around in the snow for a little bit. Either way. But for the sake of honor, dirty tricks may be demanded. Snow-down-the-collar tricks, for example.

[tu_vas_triompher]

Feuilly makes a low strangled sound as the snow works down his neck, but he's made of much too stern stuff to give up at that. His usual tactic applies here: he curls himself up as tight as he can, while kicking with his feet.

[harryhotspur]

Those kicky feet will get you if you aren't careful. But Harry takes pity at last. He snatches off Feuilly's hat, then sits back so that Feuilly can get out of defensive hedgehog mode.

"Thou needst must have a better hat," Harry says, straightening out his newly stolen one. "Thy ears shall freeze."

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Mmmfh."

Feuilly slowly uncurls, a wary eye on his foe. Warier still, he brushes snow out of his hair and tugs the stolen hat onto his head.

"I like this one."

[harryhotspur]

Harry mostly manages to keep a straight face. "O, ay, it suits thee well."

[tu_vas_triompher]

"As well as it suits you, I'm sure." He reaches up and feels the pompom. "--Thanks for the snow down my neck."

[harryhotspur]

"Thou'rt too fearsome an opposite," Harry says solemnly. "I was forced to such desperation by thy great strength."

[tu_vas_triompher]

He squirms and reaches down the back of his collar, trying to scoop some of the snow out and succeeding in wedging most of it farther down. Dammit. "I might need to take my victory and retreat."

[harryhotspur]

Harry stands and offers a hand to help Feuilly do the same. "Wouldst go inside?"

He's ready to romp around all day! But also no one shoved snow down his neck.

[tu_vas_triompher]

No one has shoved snow down Harry's neck yet. As soon as he's on his feet, Feuilly attacks.

[harryhotspur]

Noooo!

But also-- fair. Though Harry lets out a yelp and immediately tries to scoop some of the snow back out to shove in Feuilly's face.

[tu_vas_triompher]

Pfaugh! Snow in the face! Feuilly yelps and stumbles back--and then starts laughing. "All right. Now a truce?"

[harryhotspur]

Harry pretends to hesitate for a long moment, then brushes the snow off of his hands and offers one to Feuilly. "Ay, ay, a truce."

[tu_vas_triompher]

This time he takes the offered hand without any nonsense. "--I do like the hat. And now I'm freezing. Come on, we'll go in? Or at least as far as the stable?"

[harryhotspur]

Harry grins sheepishly as he tugs Feuilly up. "Let us. I would not have thee freeze."

He reaches over to brush a little bit of snow off of Feuilly's shoulder, then slings an arm around before starting for the stables.