"It's okay."
"It's going to be okay."
It was Irene who had been on this journey before and was far more used to snow than he was, but despite everything they were facing at that moment, she couldn't help but smile at his quiet insistencies while a snowstorm raged on outside.
In times like this, it felt like Henry had received her father's approval because he was very much like him in the way that he worried. Reassuring her reassured himself. Her father was like that; her husband was as well.
Neither of them was entirely sure how long they had been standing there, but there was a point when the fur being held over their heads stopped moving as the winds occasionally pushed up underneath it. It had also gotten heavier, certainly because of how much snow had accumulated on top.
"It must be late in the night by now," Henry guessed.
"I think it's safe to try and build a camp," Irene responded. "I'm so hungry."
