She did not even try to get out of the way of the snowball. Instead she looked at him with direct, solemn gray eyes. It almost made him feel guilty when it landed, even though he had not tossed it with any force. His smile started to fall, but did not vanish altogether. He scuffed his booted foot against the light snow that covered the stone floor as he quickly thought.
Since finding out he was a mage, and joining the Temple, he had been fairly cut off from the rest of the village. It was not forced, but between lessons and helping Mother out at home - when his father was gone, Brennan was the man of the family - he did not have much spare time. They were a small village, so he had seen the girl before but he could not put a name to her. A part of him remembered how it used to be before he went to the Temple, how people thought of his mother.
He was not so inured to censure yet, although he would develop a far thicker skin over the next four years, that he did not fear rejection. However, he was not one to walk away either, so he forced a wider smile on his face and looked up to the girl. Sheepishly he said, "I was gonna ask you that first, I'm Brennan. What's yours?" He waited eagerly for the answer.