[Working keeps the cold at bay. The sort that isn't buried under the skin. As Archer loses golden charms to the weather, Kirei gains a burning, blistering warmth in his fingers. He pauses before working on the next patch of snow. Glances up at Archer, prompted by the tone in his voice and the look in his eyes.

He tilts his head, almost. Scoffs, voiced. Looks away, to the snow lining the path. Down. Rests a hand on the handle of the shovel. Lets the wind whip his hair as it picks up and drops off.]

I'd go faster if you'd stop pestering me, Archer. [He glances up to face him again.] In any case, the work's still getting done.

[He turns away. Another shovel to the pile. Another foot or so cleared.] I can keep this up for much longer.