She merely grins at him, following his lead out the back door.

The grass on either side of the trail leading to the stables is dusted with frost, looking like freezer-burned vegetables in the still wan light. The basket is balanced on her hip, so she can keep her arms tucked close to her body to conserve warmth. It certainly isn't frigid, but it's pretty chilly for someone not used to the colder weather.

She hunches her delicate shoulders just slightly, so the edge of his scarf comes up around her ears, and watches the steam from her exhalation curl into the air.