He was afraid to move too quickly. No telling how she was feeling now that she was on this side of the gap, easily within arms reach if he had a mind. He didn't but fear invented all sorts of ideas. So he withstood the staring with only one glance to the side as though there was a peanut gallery to confirm that he hadn't done something wrong or grown a second head that he didn't know about.

As soon as she started reaching out, he self-consciously knew what she was reaching for - the moon had been too bright, like Mathis was lit up for the horror show that he and his had given, their screams no doubt echoing across the tainted snow - it wasn't quite a wince, more a pained twitch of his brow as he ducked his head, hiding under the brim of his hat before he shook his head. Peeling off the calf length wool jacket he'd come in with off his shoulders, he held it out to her.

"Still ain't used to 'em myself. They don't belong there and yet.. Take the jacket. You're gonna freeze otherwise."

They didn't have to talk about it. He wasn't hard lining anything; for as hard as he could be, his normal friendly smile having been torn away after too many days in Mathis, he saved his distrust and anger for adults who have or will eventually earn it. He was not hard out of choice, but of necessity. When the situation called for it. No one could kick you if they didn't know you were down.