The snowball exploded a centimetre away from Saqroz’s head.
He flinched, composed himself, then quickly bent down, bunched up a handful of the blue snow, packed it into a ball and threw it at his attacker.

In the moment it would take for the snowball to distract his attacker, Saqroz began to run.

But just as he plunged one foot, then another, into the snow for a fifth time, his attacker threw a second snowball directly at Saqroz’s head.

The attacker did not miss.

• * * * *

Saqroz turned onto his back and looked into the eyes of Akyor; his attacker.

“You’re misht at this game,” said Akyor.

The two boys started laughing loudly, doubling over with giggles.

A second later, an explosion ripped through the snow a metre away from where they stood; a torrent of metal flew through the air, smoke billowing into the sky.

Saqroz and Akyor gazed at this strange, red-hot object which lay in the middle of the huge crator it had left.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Saqroz said, his words lost to the wind.