“I hate the cold,” Hidan complained, dragging his feet through the mountains of powdery, white snow before him; forcing him to waddle like a penguin. His companion, Kakuzu, showed just as much effort when it came to plowing through the snow. Kakuzu’s remained glancing at the direction they were facing when he generally spoke, “Isn’t it normally cold in your home village?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hidan responded nonchalantly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, “But it’s a different kind of cold. This cold is a bitter, sour one, while the cold back home is a… warm kind of cold.”
“Warm cold,” Kakuzu questioned. Hidan playfully pushed the slightly confused Kakuzu, almost tipping him into the snow, “I  know it sounds retarded. I guess you wouldn’t understand.”
Silence grew quickly back, covering them like the snow on their shoulders so that only the crunching as their feet compressed the snow against the ground could be heard. Two sets of feet… no, one. Kakuzu stopped.
Hidan turned around to face his partner, “What’s with the hold up?”
Instead of responding, Kakuzu let out a hand, letting the snow build up and melt away on his fingertips and palm; his gaze leading to nowhere. “The warm kind of cold when children laugh and giggle as they throw snow at each other; not through anger, but just for the hell of it. The kind of cold when a mother tend to her hurt child. The kind of cold as we stand here, not exactly happy, but not exactly upset. A happy kind of cold,” his glance moved  over to meet with Hidan’s, “Am I right?”
Hidan smirked, letting out a slight snort. Instead of responding immediately, he crouched down, running his hands through the snow, clumping it together into a ball. Jiggling the snow in his hand, he lightly replied to Kakuzu, “Yeah. That’s the kind.”