"Just don't end up there for... I dunno, more than a night or two every few months? Voice of experience." But then he was putting down all the warm things he'd found upstairs so he could have his hands empty to button his shirt. It was a nice shirt. ...Weird, but nice. It felt good, thick, warm - better quality than most he'd ever worn. And with pockets on the chest. That was new.

"The tools, though - you're not practiced in them very much? Huh. Wonder why you got them, then," he mused. "...And who gave them to you."