This is the sort of thing that he wishes he had a house robe for. Of all the strange wishes that he had, lounging around in a house robe is somehow the one that he keenly feels, especially when it's snowy and there's no way that he's trudging back to his house with Major, unless they magically develop snowplows. With a thought to hope that Minor is all right, he shuffles wearily, wishing for all that lovely coffee they'd found. Alas, he'll have to settle for the warmth of Helen's body as he slides against her side to wrap an arm around her waist, bowing his nose for a kiss, tired and cold and weary of the snow already.

"I feel like this is hardly the strangest thing that's happened to us," he admits, not exactly very sharp and astute with his communication just yet, feeling like the snow is making him thick.