Well both of his friends were okay out there, that was a relief. But he was certainly not, he realized, as he noticed how difficult it was getting to type thanks to the cold turning his fingers stiff. He sent off the text he was working on and let out a slow breath, watching the condensation form in the air.

He hated Kharveryos, he decided.

He also decided that Jordan was right, he did need to do something, because he was not properly equipped to do nothing in weather like this.

The tables outside had tablecloths. Did they keep those in here? They'd be thin and cheap, but it was better than relying on what he was wearing to keep his own body heat in. He started moving, scanning the shelves, pausing to answer Gabe and Mal when his phone went off.

He found a plastic tub nestled between a shelf and a stack of folding chairs that he probably wouldn't have seen if he wasn't looking as closely as he'd been and pried it open to check the contents. He dug through cheap centerpiece arrangements until he found a corner of white that led to a small stack of folded tablecloths.

"Hey," he called out to Jordan, as he dug them out of the tub one at a time, dropping them to the floor beside him. He wasn't petty enough not to give her something to keep warm with; he'd worked out most of his anger by calling her a bitch. "Come here."