(thank you @-bloomy- for the suggestion!)

It had only been about half an hour in Blackrock, yet Medkit was already basically forced to give you his jacket as you were underdressed, saying "it wouldn't be that bad" along with three packets of hot hands that were pinned against your hand, under your glove. You clutched the jacket as if trying to make it tighter and warmer around your body. Your hands shook and your teeth chattered with every step or gust of wind. You felt snow fall into your boots every now and again, making you believe that soon enough you'd be cursed with frostbite.

Medkit, on the other hand, walked up the mountain beside you without an issue. His expression remained unbothered, maybe a little irritated. Even with just his sweater, he seemed only a little cold—not nearly as bad as you. You knew he was from Blackrock, but since when did that mean being basically immune to the cold?!

He glanced at you, pausing to take in the pitiful shivering sight of you, a poor Lost Templer. If you knew it was going to be this cold, you would've straight up said no when Scythe told you about the mission. You could barley even remember what the objective of this was anymore, more focused on trying not to freeze to what felt like literal death. You were contemplating getting on your knees and begging him to turn around and just tell your boss that it was a fail.

"You act as if you've never seen snow before." He spoke up, watching you flinch as another gust of wind crashed into your face. "It's really not that bad."