"I mean... it's cold." Garrot very matter of fact about it, actually. "Couple feet of snow, and the wind'll chill you to the bone." He knows that sounds terrible, so he tries to lighten the mood. "But I can manage pretty well." And then he gestures to one hand with the other, particularly to a tuft of fur poking out from the cuff of his sleeve.

"I always have trouble whenever work takes me somewhere warmer like Farida or here," he sighs melodramatically, "I mean, I always wear something too heavy and get all sweaty and gross."

Then he makes a disgusted face, going so far to stick out his tongue as he looks down at his suit. Garrot might have to burn this thing later.