Taff looked up at the sky as the flakes began to fall, huge, cold and heavy. He would've been content to stand there and listen to the soft hiss of falling snow but Ioan snapped his attention back. Apparate? No. No he couldn't do that anymore, but hell if he was going to confess that to Ioan.
"What's wrong Cadwallader? Scared of a little snow?" He asked, tossing and catching his snowball. His fingers were numb. He wished he'd worn a thicker jacket. He stepped down away from Ioan's door and walked through the perfect sheet of snow to the other side of the garden gate. "Happy?" He asked. He looked around but he didn't know this place. Somewhere in Wales he hadn't been before, and it showed on his face.
But the snow was getting heavier and it wasn't like it really mattered if he'd seen this place before because after a few moments it was so obscured by falling snow he might have well have been standing in a labrynth. The only thing he could see was Ioan and his house.