Mirage sighed in exasperation, increasingly chilled waste-heat from his vents still warm enough to cloud the air.

"I don't think you realize what we are going to have to do to survive this."

Taking the offered corner of parachute in one hand, Mirage leaned over to snag a red wrist in the other, limbs opened and beckoning with the gesture. He gave an impatient tug.

"Come here. We are not going to conserve heat by leaning on pride and acting like touch-repressed ninnies."