The cold hits like a shockwave, sudden and biting, and even though Meredith would have to admit she's brought it entirely on herself, she lets out another yelp. Flinching away, she pushes herself back from him so she can sit. "Hey," she protests, though she doesn't entirely mean it, "not okay." She'd mean it even less if sitting up didn't send the snow sliding downward. Reaching beside her, she scoops up a handful of snow to fling at him, petulant.