[Margaret exhales, letting out a puff of visible breath in the air. For a moment, she considers arguing with him, insisting on continuing as is. But, truly? She doesn't want to keep shoveling. So, instead, she just grumbles and retorts:]
Oh, like you're some sort of expert at shoveling snow.
[Unwilling to dignify Vasiliy with any further response, she simply hands the shovel over to him. Her expression is sullen, her mouth a thin, dour line. She then shuffles off to the side, glowering at him and keeping her arms crossed. She doesn't take shelter in the garage--perhaps out of some stubbornness to prove she can handle the conditions outside.]
no subject
Oh, like you're some sort of expert at shoveling snow.
[Unwilling to dignify Vasiliy with any further response, she simply hands the shovel over to him. Her expression is sullen, her mouth a thin, dour line. She then shuffles off to the side, glowering at him and keeping her arms crossed. She doesn't take shelter in the garage--perhaps out of some stubbornness to prove she can handle the conditions outside.]