"There's nothing wrong with wanting something that was stolen from you." Matt, at least, doesn't begrudge him that at all. There's things about having sight that he misses, even now.

But not having it isn't the end of the world either, not even close. Whether or not Steve is as accepting of this as he's acting, he's got the right idea. And Matt has recently clawed his way up from what felt like the deepest pits of Hell, himself, without the help of supersoldier serum to ease the way. "We'll get you fighting fit again, captain. You can count on it."

He's also right that it's going to have wait, though, and Steve seems able to navigate his own territory just fine without his eyes to help, so Matt gives him one last reassuring pat on the shoulder before turning his attention to the giant wolfman with his head stuck in a windowframe.

Very graceful.

He opens his mouth to say something about being ready to go and then- oh, really? Seriously? Weren't they supposed to be roped together?

Daredevil does as he's bit, though, drawing his batons and keeping his hearing trained on the sound of paws in deep powder, half-masked by howling wind. "Tracker? Oh, come on!" He doesn't glance over his shoulder at Kinner - no point, obviously - but his next call goes to the man who has sensibly not run off into a blizzard. "Let's go!"