Blankets are better than sitting there, shivering, she figures, and he's more than capable of opening his mouth if he's pissed about something. He did just an hour or two ago, when she suggested coming over here in the first place. So she assumes he will, and she keeps piling on the blankets.

"I know it happened," she answers, telling herself to be patient with him. He's going to need something after this, tea or the cloth thing they showed her how to make, something that'll help the way he's burning up. "You're covered in snow."

What were you doing out there in the first place? she wants to ask, like she doesn't already know the answer to that. He was trying to get out of here, and they both know it.