Natsumi hadn't thought she could feel colder. She shivered, chilled by more than the twilight shadows of the pines. Asuma's arm tightened around her shoulders. She glanced up again, half-afraid of what she'd see. But his profile was sharp and stern, rough-cut out of marble. A muscle bunched in the side of his jaw, under stubble studded with water droplets.

He seemed to have mastered resolute. She could do the same.

"I guess that means no bonfire, then." And made going to ground even more urgent. It was entirely possible the woman had decided to cut her losses, of course, or that she had fallen and hadn't survived, or that she thought they hadn't. But optimism killed more ninja than caution. And when Natsumi thought of that contemptuous woman on the bridge, she couldn't think of anything but danger.

She tried quickening their stumbling pace. "I'm not sure we'll f-find you that cave. Maybe a hollow t-tree?"

Gods, she was stuttering with cold now. She gritted her teeth; they chattered anyway. The thin breeze cut through her soaked armor and tangled in her dripping hair. Asuma wasn't any warmer, but... She could still feel the faint smolder of his chakra, like a banked fire burning low.

Not quite the same as a bonfire, but good enough.