[Rumlow spent a lot of their time in the small talk listening, adding his two-cents in the form of small comments or little questions to generate more information from her. The thing about small talk like this was that he could relate, that a part of him could long ago remember sneaking out of the house or just plain not coming home because it was easier. Small snatches of happiness in a sea of survival, and Ava became rather animated when she spoke of Sana, and he believed that the pair had been friends. Real friends.
That was good. He twirled a small twig around his fingers as they spoke, the warmth of the fire enough to keep the edge of the cold creeping in the entrance as the snow storm continued, though less violent then a few spurts of it. It was companionable, and Ava might have been the first person that he had had actual small talk with other than the insulting back and forth with Jones.
Ava was also the only person that he called by a first name. He clicked that distinction just as she was rifling through her back when they both knew they were out of materials for the dying fire.
He turned his head along the stone wall to peer into the white flecks in the darkness, listening to the wind and feeling the cold. She didn't ask permission, and he, of course, wouldn't grant it.]
You won't be successful with that amount of snow. It will be too wet to burn. Also, there's a high likelihood you'll go snowblind and not make your way back here. Freezing to death isn't the worst, but I can't let you go out there. Sit down and we'll have to conserve body heat. [He said it all reasonably, knowing he was right. He too had spent some time in Siberia; he knew it was a frozen shithole. So shitty was that place that no one could take a shit there without their ass literally freezing off.]
no subject
That was good. He twirled a small twig around his fingers as they spoke, the warmth of the fire enough to keep the edge of the cold creeping in the entrance as the snow storm continued, though less violent then a few spurts of it. It was companionable, and Ava might have been the first person that he had had actual small talk with other than the insulting back and forth with Jones.
Ava was also the only person that he called by a first name. He clicked that distinction just as she was rifling through her back when they both knew they were out of materials for the dying fire.
He turned his head along the stone wall to peer into the white flecks in the darkness, listening to the wind and feeling the cold. She didn't ask permission, and he, of course, wouldn't grant it.]
You won't be successful with that amount of snow. It will be too wet to burn. Also, there's a high likelihood you'll go snowblind and not make your way back here. Freezing to death isn't the worst, but I can't let you go out there. Sit down and we'll have to conserve body heat. [He said it all reasonably, knowing he was right. He too had spent some time in Siberia; he knew it was a frozen shithole. So shitty was that place that no one could take a shit there without their ass literally freezing off.]