The silence is fraught.

An army of angry glances,

Diamond-hard glares battle for supremacy,

Two titans of polished frost.

No words are spoken.

A skitter of nervous whispers try to break the spell, disregarded—

There will be no interruptions.

One frigid brow raises, icy contempt,

Throwing down the gauntlet;

One arctic nod takes up the challenge.

It is a deadly dance of frozen courtesy.

Neither gives way, eyes locked upon the other;

To falter is to admit defeat, and defeat is not an option.

Cold looks broken by one intrusive greeting:

One clueless novice trying to play the game.

As one, twin frozen stares pin the distraction.

If looks could kill.