"Scrambled's perfect." He starts to sit up like he's about to help, but then backs down. He still feels a little weak from the cold, and it seems like this guy knows just what he's doing. It's strange for him to sit by and let somebody else cook, though. Normally he's the one at the stove, flour on his shirt and Pandora playing something instrumental in the background.

But that's back home, and he doesn't really know the first thing about cooking with an actual fire. Plus, there's no Pandora here. He's already checked and rechecked himself and his bag twice looking for his phone. His friends and family must be worried sick by now.

"Sonny Carisi," he introduces. "I'm... new here. I guess."