[Crasher]
Hot cocoa it is, then. [He lets go of her hand just long enough to slip out of his coat and drape it around her shoulders, then promptly laces his fingers through hers again and heads for the tent, walking as close as physically possible. He can always give the excuse that he's sharing body warmth with her, even if it is a rather poor excuse, given his natural body temperature is almost forty degrees Fahrenheit lower than hers.]