The smile grows at the joke and handshake. His own is firm enough, comparable, but definitely not an attempt at competition.

"A few weeks. Long enough to gain enough weight that it may take a few scouts to haul me out of a snowbank if I fall in." He's still skinny in a way that isn't entirely healthy, but he no longer looks like he's starving. It's progress. "If I'm here much longer, you may even need a horse."

Granted, he wouldn't place bets on himself surviving for much longer, but it would be nice. He likes living.

"You've certainly been with them a time to become Lead Scout. Are you the best, were you first here, or some sort of combination of the both?" If he makes a run for it one day, will she be leading them?