“Worry not,” Rezo says mildly. “I share your lack of interest.” He had enough of being hauled around when he was in a jar, thank you. Although he doesn’t actually expect Zelgadis would drag him off if Rezo collapsed from his own stupidity.

He moves over to the stove; if Zelgadis hasn’t lit it yet, he’ll take a moment to open the door, check that it’s stocked, and cold cast a small fire spell to light it. Otherwise, he’ll lean his staff up against the wall and work on fiddling his wet hoodie off.

(Zippers are still weird and Rezo handles the one on his hoodie very carefully, like he’s expecting it to break if he does something wrong.)