"Have your opinions changed since?" It was important to know. If anything had come up worth altering that idea he needed to know what it was. He rubbed his hands together, dropping the dry backpack to the floor. He crouched to open it, and found the clothing within still dry. He wasted no time or care for privacy pulling the soaked top off and pulling the flannel undershirt on instead. The warmth that thin fabric offered is near instantaneous just by virtue of covering his goosepimpled and shivering limbs up. Everywhere his skin is covered and marred with the scars of battle and training, some larger and more evident than others. A burn in his lower torso from a blaster and the thick scar that traveled over his arm and shoulder and up across his face the most immediately prevalent ones.

He took a seat after, tilting his head up to watch John as he pulled the thick wool socks on over his frozen feet and rubbed the warmth back into them.