[Bellamy tosses in another bit of kindling into the fire, nudging it with his knife to help the flames along. He hears Clarke approaching before she sits and looks up at her from his squat, standing up to take the mug when she offers it. It's warm on his hands, a constant warm that he doesn't have to worry about creating himself like he does with his knife.]
Too much fairy dust? [He takes a sip anyway, and it's hot enough to burn the top of his tongue. He scowls for a moment, then reaches down to throw a few more sticks into the pit, just in case. The fire's enough to have melted away the snow around it, a flash of grass at their feet against blinding white, but he doesn't want it to die either. At least not while he's still out here.]
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Too much fairy dust? [He takes a sip anyway, and it's hot enough to burn the top of his tongue. He scowls for a moment, then reaches down to throw a few more sticks into the pit, just in case. The fire's enough to have melted away the snow around it, a flash of grass at their feet against blinding white, but he doesn't want it to die either. At least not while he's still out here.]