"Macduff?" Raine inquires, almost out of force of habit, since she's slightly more concerned with the creative application of snow at the moment. She tilts her palm up, watches the remaining snow melting into water in her hand, and thinks about the options for a moment or two.

She'll have to telegraph her movements to acquire more snow, which is the only true drawback. Slowly, as though she's still considering it, Raine bends to gather more snow, sculpting and compressing. --and eventually, in one sudden movement, throwing.