It makes him want to laugh, just a little, and he thinks he might if not for the memory of what he had done on New Year's Eve, the ice that had come from him, blasting freezing patches just past Matthias's feet. Though he'd had no real idea of what he was doing, even at the time it had seemed like too much of a threat. He'd been convinced he might hurt someone.

A snowball, though, is harmless and even with the memory of all that awful ice, he manages to smile a little.

"Gloves off, I assume," he says, taking his hands out of his pockets and then peeling the gloves off carefully. He doesn't close his eyes, just looks down at his hands as he shapes a good sized snowball, trying to picture it there. At first there's nothing, then a prickle of cold as a few flakes of snow begin to materialize.

It could go wrong very quickly, though, he knows that, and so he focuses on his hands and nothing else.