[ Technical issues. He supposes he walked into that. Shooting a backward glance at Prior which reads all right, fine, I get it he pauses for only a moment before kicking at the snow again.

He wants to say something snarky, but unfortunately everything else is the truth. He is new, if not necessarily new to the concepts. ]

Guessing I'm new because I assumed I wouldn't need a hat is quite the assumption.

[ It feels defensive. He's being defensive. What is he even defending? His masculinity? Against what? Against raging frustration from being on an outpost for years where half the people he flirts with turn out to want to shock him repeatedly and break into his city, mostly. Great. After a few moments making sure the path he has kicked through is about wide enough and as smooth as he can get it he tries to rub his hands dry against his uniform, turns to look Prior over again more thoughtfully. ]

Trust me, I may be new to this planet but I'm not new to being lied to and pulled into someone else's politics. You need a hand through?

[ Since the melting snow is making everything slick. John glances around at the banks a last time before approaching Prior to offer him just that -- a hand up. ]