There's precious little to smile about these days. Steve's honestly a bit surprised his face still knows how to make that expression when he catches the quirk of his own lips to mirror the smile Cricket's giving him. The despondent cloud that's been hanging over him for the last several days doesn't weigh quite so heavily over him now as Steve takes the time Cricket spends determinedly walking over to the stove getting himself upright and as coherent as possible.

It doesn't take long for the smell to filter through the infirmary. Any spot of humidity in the otherwise cold dry air is a blessing.

"Yeah. I can imagine." His gaze shifts over to the cot where the angel Nike is sprawled out with a damp cloth over her forehead passed out from exhaustion. Even their healers are bedridden by now, too worn out to be much good. That there's folks still trying to raise morale surprises him but in a very good way.

"Are they? That's impressive. Have you seen any yet?"