Part of Matt feels guilty for eating so well, even in the short-term, while so many others have so little. It helps, though, to know that if they succeed in this risky gamble, there'll be more than enough to go around. When he submits himself to the medics for final clearance, they aren't very happy with the idea of sending a blind man on a raiding party, but he makes it abundantly clear that his lack of sight does very little to hold him back, and in the end he's given the all-clear to join the expedition.

He's switched out his mismatched winter gear for something he's been assured is less glaringly obvious against the snow, as well as being better insulated, though he's had to put on multiple pairs of socks to make the boots fit snugly on his feet. It's as comfortable as he's going to get, with the cold gnawing at any inch left exposed, seeping in even where he's fully covered if he stands still long enough.

All the more reason to get moving as soon as possible.

The darkness doesn't bother him one bit, standing in the midst of the rest of the expedition, as ready as he'll ever be. He feels slightly out of place among those who're armed with guns, but he's not the only one who's brought a melee weapon to a gunfight, hearing Sif nearby holding the same sword she arrived with. He gives her a tight smile and a nod when he feels her facing his way, but then Blaze is speaking, demanding all eyes and ears as applicable.

He's always thought that rousing speeches before a battle are corny as anything, something he could never take seriously in movies no matter how dramatic Foggy tried to describe them to him. But standing here, ready to take on the monsters beyond the torches and bring back enough supplies for the survival of those left stranded here by the hand of winter, and feeling the hunger that even two days of better rations hasn't entirely banished, all he feels is ready to go, and raises his voice with the others in affirmation.