Logan spends the time waiting for Ellie to warm up fetching more wood and stacking it nearby, ignoring the silent stares of the faceless mannequins and the itching feeling of being watched by the shadows. His breath smokes in front of him and he feels the cold in his joints and the places where his body is still healing. He ignores it, for the most part. He can take it.

By the time Ellie is able to open her eyes and speak he's back beside the fire, feeding it with splinters of what probably was once a nice office chair.

He grunts at her thanks.

"I wasn't gonna leave you out there in the snow, kid." He prods the embers, then glances over at her, masking concern with a wry smile. "At least you got me to make a fuckin' fire, huh?"