[His does not return the smile, because emotions are foreign things, as is comforting people. He's an exemplary of human interactions, this dragoon.]

Those who do not know how to shelter themselves against the cold will. I am far from lacking the ken of such ordeals, and thus we shall be fine.

[Estinien is not new to this, he knows how to survive in a frozen wasteland, how to make due in less than desirable situations. This little girl, however, likely would not fair as easily. Partially because she is but a child who still indulges in her fairytales, but also because nobility oft do not know a life outside the comfort of their manors.

Survival skills are hoisted upon less fortunate men, for reasons outside of personal choice.

His eyes do fall to their hands, and for a moment he pauses, pondering the best course of action from here. Settling on giving her hand a slight, reassuring squeeze.]

Tell me more of this rat plague—and your mother. She sounds as though she was a kind Empress; to care so deeply about the state of her people.

[Honestly, the more the girl chatters on, the less he himself has to talk. Which works fine for him, even if he's not one for listening much either.]