"The 'I'm sick of snow' club?" Raleigh inquires lightly, not because he actually cares what it's called (he is certainly in the club no matter what) but because it's something to say. He's still getting used to peopleing again, there's going to be a relearning curve here. What he's comfortable doing, however, is coming over to the fire and pulling up the offered chair, then stretching his hands out towards the flames to warm them.

That stew smells really good, but he remembers his manners.

"Thanks. I'm Raleigh... did you cook?"