What he wanted rarely mattered. Life had a way of falling out before him with little concern about what he wanted or hell, needed. It was a nice sentiment but it was hard to compromise when one side didn't want anything to do with the table. She wanted him to leave his job; he offered to go back to instructing. Wasn't enough. Too many years of knowing each other had somehow gotten in the way.

If he were still in Kentucky, space and peace were something that Winona wouldn't be able to find. Maybe being here was better, just for that. God he could use a drink.

"Yeah," he answered to the last question, ungracefully avoiding the sensible advice he appreciated but couldn't quite agree with due to his own cynical issues. "Nice fire and all, but it's warmer with walls. Least I can feel my fingers again."

He pushed to his feet. "Let's put it out and get goin'."