Warrick held his fingers up to his mouth and huffed softly on them, trying to get some colour back into the white, bloodless tips. He hadn't dared put them in his mouth to warm them while he was outside, knowing the dampness would make things a hundred times worse, but it had been tempting. He spared a glance for the man crouching next to him, offering his arm like Warrick was a fragile damsel in need of gentlemanly assistance. Well perhaps he was, in a way. He almost laughed at the thought.

"Mm, likely not," he replied, resting a bit of his weight uncertainly on the stranger's shoulder and letting him lever him up once more into a more dignified position. "You're American. How strange. I've not met an American for ages. Not met anyone for ages, actually."