Dia settles; no funny remarks this time, it'd seem. She likes the way Mari's face lights up, the warmth that emanates from her palm. While she's had considerably sunnier and less sodden walks, this much, at least, is pleasant. New. It's-- nice.

But even so, she can't get to the hotel fast enough. Her legs are freezing, and the horrible squelching sensation of her soaked-through socks with every step she takes is plain torment. By the time they pass through the door Dia's toes are numb, and she can't stop sniffling.

"Pardon the intru--" sniff-- "guh, intrusion. Please allow me to make use of your dryer."