Marg was woken by the carriage door clicking closed. The first thing she realised was how very cold it was, she had a blanket over her now which was trapping warmth but the air on her face was bitter cold. The rain hammered against the carriage, she could hear it too loudly, lightning breaking the sky and the thunder very close on it's heels. Wind roared in the air, it was a very deep dark - she'd slept through to night and a storm had found the carriage.
He sighed as he sat on the large seat immediately behind her back and grunted as he removed his wet coat. Groaning and cursing the blasted weather under his breath, he tugged at the blanket and slid onto the seat/bed beside her. He said nothing though, his back to hers, the only movement his chattering teeth and rubbing his own arms, insistent on getting warm.
Margrett rubbed her eyes as she groggily got into a sitting position, the cold waking her up much faster than she had intended. For the instant after she awoke she was assaulted by the dark, the cold, the wet, the movement, and strange location, but as it came together she was able to wonder why Grayell was back in the cap. Her voice still came out as sleepy as she gathered the blanket around her shoulders.
The shivering was the overriding factor in the reaction and the movement in the blanket only brought the cold back. A dark, wet, lump laying in a trembling heap, there was only one word in response.
She blinked. Obviously something was wrong. Was this even Gray? Her brain still a little foggy from sleep, she got up, studying the person on the bed, too tired and in truth concerned to be angry that whoever-it-was laid next to her. She carefully, almost reluctantly put her hand on the man's shoulder, trying to turn him a little.
Lightning streaked through the sky and shook the carriage as it rumbled along but no - that wasn't Grayell. It was the coach driver, clinging to himself and trying desperately to get warm, his face pale and damn near frozen.
She blinked when it hit hit and glared out the window. That man.
She threw the blanket back onto the man and opened the door, holding firm onto the doorframe and looking up at the driver's seat, yelling over the rain and noise.
You know, normal people would have pulled over so they didn't god damn freeze to death! She started to pull herself up the side of the carriage to the seat, grimacing in the rain, trying to hold her hat over her eyes.
Grayell was covered with an oil skin, just an open tarp in the rain, but she could see him laugh a little at her complaining. The wind and the rain was fierce up here and the cold cut into her immediately. He raised his voice so he could be heard over the storm, hands steady on the reigns.
I'm fine! The driver was freezing to death! I sent him below to get some warmth!
The hell it is! She held her hat onto her head and made it to the driver's seat, managing to pull off her cape and put it over herself sideways to try and get some cover. She still raised her voice over the storm, but there was an element of condescension to it, as well as one of shocked amusement.
Grayell didn't even look at her, the rain was pouring in buckets. She wouldn't understand it of course, but he was warm enough. He had his blood circulating at an increased pace, warming his body and keeping him alert. There would be time for sleep later. He cracked the reins again.
No. We need to get the hell out of this valley. If it floods we're all bloody dead. So I would suggest you get inside - and stay warm!
Grayell snapped again on the reins, urging the horses on in the dark and wet. He still had to yell over the driving storm.. but now he wasn't sounding entirely happy with her.
Suit yourself. No bitching when you lose your toes you stubborn shit.
His head turned, gazed up at the ridge on either side, to the stars hidden behind the clouds and then ahead into the dark.
Not too far. Now stop being a shit and get in where it's dry.
Grayell sighed then and lifted the oilskin, pulling it around her. His hand yanked her closer and rubbed her side to try and stimulate some warmth. He was very warm though, almost radiating heat regardless of the storm. The oilcloth cut out the rain at least, she might warm up.
I told you I am FINE. You're going to catch your death of cold up here, you really should be in the cab. But then you wouldn't be your usual stubborn self.
He looked to her then and smiled, still trying to warm her. The cart rumbled ahead still, the storm not letting up at all.
Grayell wasn't entirely sure how to react to that... but settled on a smile. As long as she stayed warm. And she was blue, an odd thing. How could he tell if her lips were cold? Well, he didn't venture that question any further before it became awkward... and instead shrugged. His hand shifted to her shoulder though, rubbed it as well.
No really, this is nothing I can't handle. Tell me, is the driver ok?