Raju leans to spread out the other one of the furs, huffing at him. Francis is laughing, nostalgic, and Raju’s not quite able to keep a faint smile off his face long enough to complain properly about Francis having walked off.

Once he’s got the one fur spread he answers Francis by grabbing at his shoulders and pulling, not concerned how they end up lying on down together so long as they do. “How can you be nostalgic for something happening now?” he asks, off the tenor of Francis’ thoughts a moment ago as he’d stopped to gaze at Raju and the fire. The furs are soft, as they always are; he tugs at the one Francis is huddled in, trying to unwrap it and make him share. “The only thing different then was that it was colder in here.”