Mn. And ignoring him isn't doing so well either.

[Shooting an irritated look to an empty patch of air. Cut it out. Before his hypothermia gets to a point where it can't be managed by simply snuggling close that a fire. To Kipinn:] If I spend all of tommorow talking to you as I walk, will you at least not douse my campfire?

[Another rustle, and the trickle of air as it leaves the cave...] Thank you.