"Howdy, Cricket. It's been a while, but I wanted to check up on you. It's been hard to find time." A lanky figure in polar gear staggers through the snow, carrying a heavy backpack. "I'm working as a volunteer cook. They need all the help they can get. It's important work, but I'm kinda worn out. Never wanna see a bowl of soup again."

Kinner's managed to find some time for himself off duty, and when he hears about what happened with Cricket he goes searching for his friend, concerned. Byrd isn't with him - Kinner isn't sure the Pokemon would be safe in this tense environment. The claustrophobic environment and the paranoia are unpleasantly familiar. He ought to be used to this kind of thing by now, but he feels no better.

"I heard 'bout what happened." Kinner was more concerned about Cricket than the two thieves. While he's no killer, and he's relieved no one died in the fight, he feels they deserved what they got."Glad to hear you're all right. Thing are gettin' bad, I've heard. Folks are angry and scared. Not too different from what happened with the Thing,so this is all familiar territory."

Trying to brighten the mood, Kinner changes subjects with a weak smile. "I dunno about you, Cricket, but once this damned winter lets up, I'm in the mood for something nice and filling. Somethin' better than stew." Kinner's stomach growls, as if in agreement, and the cook's face flushes red with embarrassment. "Sorry. Haven't eaten in a while."