“Sir Codpiece, then,” Remy says, with a dip of his head. He purses his lips after the words, like he’s swallowing down a laugh or another comment. But he does manage to keep it together, to his credit. Normally he’d try to keep the conversation going, after that, but the cold gets inside his skin through the suit and chills him down to his spine. It’s a calm, but quiet, journey from there.

He makes better time than he thought he would, climbing across a snowbank to find Nate. He pauses, nods to Codpiece before giving Nate a blandly-delivered wave.

“This would be the friend I was tellin’ you about.”