Roland wanted to argue, to insist they forgo the fire, but his own chill made him keep quiet. Was Alexi cold as well? He wasn't sure if the mutants were the same, feeling the same cold, the same hunger, the same pain. To him they didn't seem so different, aside from the strange way that Alexi could control the wind, something Roland wasn't sure he'd ever fully be used to. He wasn't afraid of it, but it was exciting and new each time, something that sent chills down his spine no matter how many times he felt it. How he envied the ability, even if it would have put him in exile.

He felt a bit useless as Alexi did all the work, starting the fire, gathering food, but he knew little about how to survive on his own. He wanted for nothing, not with the money his family had, the conveniences that were afforded to him. He had never even cooked a meal for himself, the most he had done was make a sandwich once. Was he really so helpless?

"Is there anything I can do?"