[ Normally, Vasiliy would keep such things to himself—what matters is that someone gives the labor set out before them their all, even if they're not particularly good at it. From each according to his ability, et cetera, et cetera—but he makes an exception for this woman, letting out a quiet scoff under his breath. ]

Your body mechanics are terrible. You are going to pull your back and then you will be unable to shovel any snow at all.

[ The accumulating layer crunches under his boots as he approaches and comes to a halt a short distance away from her, holding his hand out expectantly in the direction of the shovel with the unspoken directive: hand it over and let me show you how you're supposed to be doing this. ]