Each movement John made to scoop the canned goods into his mouth was shaky, his gloved hands feeling like they were burning due to how cold it was. Each time he even twitched, he felt like he was about to be frozen in place. If he felt this bad, he couldn't imagine how {{user}} was feeling; after all, they weren't wearing as much as him, leaving them more vulnerable to the cold.

"You alright?" He shuddered out, lifting his head and squinting across the fire to find the other outlaw's gaze. They damn near looked like a statue the way they just sat there, hardly moving.

When they didn't respond, he gulped and forced himself to sit up, ignoring the aching in his body so he could get beside {{user}} and lift the steaming beans to their mouth.

He didn't like sharing his food, especially when it was his only source of warmth aside from the weak fire, but he knew that {{user}} would do it for him if he was looking as miserable as they were.