Snow or no snow, it's impossible to miss the way that Wash readies himself for an attack. Maine draws up a few paces short of his friend. Gives him a curious look, then does the only thing that makes any sense to him: he looks over his shoulder, trying to spot the source of Wash's wariness.

It doesn't occur to Maine that he's the reason Wash is on guard. Nor does he take even the most rudimentary of precautions against Wash as he turns to look for the potential threat. Wash would never attack him outside of a training scenario. And, even if Wash may have been a bit ... rattled by Maine's training session with Wyoming and Texas, there's no way Wash would think of him as a threat.

So the massive man turns, looking over first one shoulder and then the other. Scans their surroundings as best he can with no equipment and shitty visibility. Finding nothing, he looks back to Wash, one eyebrow quirked as he cants his head in question: "you good?"

And then, in answer to Wash's question, he speaks. His voice is deep and rough and hardly pleasant, but it's unmistakably his voice.

"Better clothes."

That's said with a flick to the bill of his cap. Because seriously? A baseball hat? His shaved head is fucking freezing.