Will watched in silence, trying to guess what this stranger must be seeing. Three men in a basement, locked in cages, all of them haggard and hungry...
"Tuck," he rasped, his throat too dry. "Water, get water." He gestured towards Tuck's mug. "Snow?" The gust of fresh air that came with the smashed window was just glorious. It was cold, yes, but so were they anyway, and it was clean and crisp and didn't stink of unwashed bodies and moldering fruit and infection and piss. It was kind of invigorating just to breathe it.