Not here, they don't. Do you want to know what I think?

[ She steps closer, into his space. Close enough that their fronts lightly bump. It forces her to lift her chin to meet his eyes, to hold his gaze. And it should be clear to him he'll hear her thoughts on whatever it is she's on her mind (which is a lot), because of the way she invades his space. ]

I prefer the name 'Snow' on you. It makes me think of your snowmen, and how you were a little devil with your siblings as you piled snow atop the doorways. It's not your shackles, like some would treat it. There's nothing wrong with Snow, or Sand, or any of the other silly names silly men thought were clever to try and demean a child who deserved love, not scorn.