"Thanks," Matt replies with an affable smile as he accepts the cup with nary a spilled drop. "To be honest, I just want to hold it for awhile. It's miserable out there."

Miserable here in general, he thinks, with his powers reduced to practically nil and no real direction. He doesn't even have the privilege of heading off into the woods for an extended sulk like Frank. Not that he wants to, as tempting as it might be to some small, dark part of himself, but it chafes nonetheless that what little sense he has insists he stay well within the boundaries of what he's familiar with as long as the weather's like this. He's no good to anyone dead.