[What she lacks the awareness to tell him is that it's exhaustion, more than cold, affecting her so strongly. The amount of chest-high snow she has pushed through feels impossible, and the prospect of more too daunting to consider. Krile is a fair hand at swimming but not when it's through lashing wind and thick drifts that almost seem to shove back of their own accord.
So. Trapped, as it were, between Alphinaud and his coat, Krile holds onto his arm - still in protest - with one hand and rubs her eyes with the other.]
I'm only tired. [Not cold. And not the dangerous sort of not-cold that leads one to faster freezing, either.]
no subject
So. Trapped, as it were, between Alphinaud and his coat, Krile holds onto his arm - still in protest - with one hand and rubs her eyes with the other.]
I'm only tired. [Not cold. And not the dangerous sort of not-cold that leads one to faster freezing, either.]