[Fuckin' cold. He wasn't built for this. Houston barely got snow in its winters, and the Land of Heat and Clockwork was worse. He folds his wings in closer against his back, while his hands stuff into pockets. He finds himself missing Rose again: she could knit a scarf, a hat, a tail cozy, something more to stave off the chill.]

Even when it has to do with your personal fucking safety? Come on. I barely know you and I'm still trying to stop your intrepid ass from becoming some blizzard beast's next hairball.