Well, hell, if Kinner's going to be sweet like that, Cricket will just lean over and hug him. They're all in a bad place, but perversely Cricket seems to be drawing strength from it now that he's seen his horror and come out the other side (at least for the moment). He's not much for fighting and he can't walk far, but he can give affection, and that might be a reason for a few people to keep going.

"You too, Kinner," he says. "Don't worry, I ain't dyin' again. And neither are you. We'll get through it."

"If you like people who don't talk much, you'll love Forrest," he laughs, and nods.

Then he sobers a little, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "I dunno, Kinner. I like snow. I really do. This is a little much, but it ain't the snow that worries me so much as the not having enough shelter or food in it. If we had a lot of firewood and a nice hot stove and hot cider to go around, it'd be a little slice of Heaven."

"It ain't weather, it's circumstances." He's quiet a moment then adds, "You know, my mama died around this time of year."