"Picky, picky," Asuma groaned, and sat back. Belatedly, he realized he should probably check himself for broken bones. Arms, legs, neck, back--he flexed everything quickly, decided he was going to be black and blue for weeks, and dropped the issue. Everything worked. His right shoulder felt a little like he'd tried to lift a planet, but nothing crunched when he rotated it gingerly. A double set of sword-blade scratches were going to leave interesting scars over his collarbones, but at least the weapon itself had survived intact. His side...

He pressed a palm over the shredded gash in his armour, quenching the run of blood with skin too cold to feel it, and left it alone. If he hadn't bled out yet, he still had lots of time.

The cold was more of an issue. His hands looked white, the nail-beds tinged blue. Natsumi's eyes were dilated ink pools in the frozen parchment of her face; her lips dusky pale, drawn tight with pain. Both of them were starting to shake. And night was drawing in; he couldn't see the sun anymore.

"If I was a pessimist, I'd be having a field day." He found his legs, got them moving, and staggered to his feet with a thin, strangled hiss. The sword strained his armour straps; he pulled it free, careful not to add a new set of gouges, and re-sheathed it through the ninjato-straps still in place across his back. Then he offered a hand to Natsumi.

And saw her broken fingers. The index and middle of her right hand--her bow hand--were twisted right out of shape, held carefully still and shielded against her stomach. He couldn't see the shadow of distorted bones through her glove, or tell if her hand was actually intact. If he was going to find nothing but a bloody mangle of tissue when he peeled that flimsy armour away.

And not one word of complaint.

He reached down and wrapped his fingers carefully around her left, uninjured wrist. "C'mon, gorgeous. If I know my romance novels right, this is the part where we find a cave and I try to convince you about the joys of sharing body heat." He waggled his eyebrows, distracting and cheerful. "Might even be able to work in a bandage or two. Appeal to the bondage crowd."