"It's cold," he huffed, muffled as it was behind his jacket. The cold wasn't a creature to underestimate, he knew this well in the six times he'd encountered it. Aside from that, he made no complaints as he stood on the skateboard, clearly having an idea of what he should be doing, but woefully inadequate in the how to do that.

Form, it was not good. But he still tried, stubborn and headstrong, and planted one foot firmly on the board and used the other to propel himself forward. It wasn't far, and he wobbled with a soft waugh but managed to keep upright till he stopped.