( It's a muffled swear that answers her call; that somebody sure wasn't expecting anyone out here in the muffled quiet.
He hates it here. Not because someone's startled him, no, but the entire goddamn situation, stuck without a way home, with other folks equally stuck and miserable, and all the perilous complications of surviving in freezing weather. But... while he could certainly swear up a storm and ride it home, there was nothing constructive about it, so after he'd taken a day of rest, McCoy had gone to start collecting anything that might be of use. He'd found a quilted winter jacket that more or less fit his frame, layers to add to his present attire, and warm wool socks, and off he'd went.
A large construction bucket speckled with dried paint sits like a sentinel outside the shed door, and it's the first thing he glances down to briefly when he emerges, before he flicks his gaze to her. )
Yeah, I noticed. ( His sigh blows hot through the scarf hiding his nose and mouth, a cloud of white in the frosty air.
Then... he really looks at her, at the way she's standing, favoring a leg and looking, well, 'ruffled' is a tactful way to put it. He tugs away the scarf, exposing the frown of concern on his lips. )
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He hates it here. Not because someone's startled him, no, but the entire goddamn situation, stuck without a way home, with other folks equally stuck and miserable, and all the perilous complications of surviving in freezing weather. But... while he could certainly swear up a storm and ride it home, there was nothing constructive about it, so after he'd taken a day of rest, McCoy had gone to start collecting anything that might be of use. He'd found a quilted winter jacket that more or less fit his frame, layers to add to his present attire, and warm wool socks, and off he'd went.
A large construction bucket speckled with dried paint sits like a sentinel outside the shed door, and it's the first thing he glances down to briefly when he emerges, before he flicks his gaze to her. )
Yeah, I noticed. ( His sigh blows hot through the scarf hiding his nose and mouth, a cloud of white in the frosty air.
Then... he really looks at her, at the way she's standing, favoring a leg and looking, well, 'ruffled' is a tactful way to put it. He tugs away the scarf, exposing the frown of concern on his lips. )
You all right there?