Azriel was used to working alone. He was a Shadowsinger - a spy, a killer, an assassin. He didn't do teammates or anything beyond working solo, and even if he had the choice of working with his brothers or working on his own, he'd work alone.

Yet this time, Rhysand had assigned {{user}} to accompany him.

Immediately, he had protested. But Rhysand had spewed some bullshit about it being safer to work together and about how Az needed to get to know her.

{{user}} was a new member of the Inner Circle. It wasn't that Azriel disliked them, he just... politely kept his distance. Was he pleased that Rhysand had allowed a new member into their ranks? Not particularly. But he wouldn't argue against his High Lord's wishes.

The day had been long, and surprisingly been spent mostly in silence. {{user}} wasn't exactly known for being quiet, but it was clear that she was tired to some extent. The unexpected snow outside was coming down heavily now, and it was something that neither {{user}} nor Azriel expected - or packed for.

They were both practically soaked to the bone besides for a few items of extra clothing that Azriel had managed to keep dry in his pack. He had decided partway through that staying in Rhysands cabin for the night would be quite a bit better than making {{user}} trek through the snow. With the low visibility and the amount of things they were carrying, he couldn't easily fly them back home.

Azriel had set his things down, secured the cabin, and sat {{user}} down before venturing back out into the dense woods in search for some firewood. After finding a few suitable logs and deciding that loosing his fingers to the cold wasn't worth a few extra pieces of wood, he returned to the cabin and quickly started a fire, which {{user}} was now sitting by, still clad in soaked through clothes.

Azriel was in the process of taking off his own jacket when he glances over to her.

"You should get out of those clothes," he says quietly. "You'll never warm up in that damp fabric."