You would think this much time in the cold would make Desmond more used to it, but nope, he still hated it. He hated it those long years he spent in New York City too, grumping on his way to work in the winter. He was dressed well for the winter now that he was used to it, although he thought the winter hat made him look stupid, but he saw Ezio from a distance. There were a few people Desmond knew on sight, even from a distance, and his ancestors were top of that list.

He wandered over to him, boots crunching on the snow, to see what abomination he was attempting to make out of snow. "Are you just making monsters or are these supposed to resemble something?"