Natasha isn't actually trying to hide herself, at least not from Deanna. She is, however, almost silent, her footsteps following in the other woman's, so there's no sound of snow as she moves. She grew up in the snow, she knows how to move in it. The chill bites at her exposed skin, but it's not the worst thing she's ever felt, not as long as they don't stay out here too long, keep moving. The wind whips the snow around, which is a slight damper to ranged visibility. Best bet is probably to go further to the side, make like they're heading for the mess hall, and then curve back, using the side of the building as cover.

She smiles through the snow, a tilt of her head and her red hair not too hard to pick out against the dark of the shadows, not quite like a banner in the wind. She's graceful, agile as she moves. She's cold, colder than she should be, and she hates that, but that's not the issue. The issue is seeing what the woman's planning.

Nat hasn't really spoken to anyone here yet. She watches, picks up on snippets of conversation, mannerisms, and she keeps her head down, for the most part.