"Hah!" Hah! Don't mind as Tidus takes that as a challenge, refusing to acknowledge to plip! of the sleet that finds a home in his hair. He sits down from his kneeled position, shaking out his right hand until in a poof of temporary golden glitter, a fancy blanket appears, dropping in a crumble than anything tidy.

He picks it up, trying to find the corners, sparing just a moment to pat his lap and say to Romeo, "Get on, we'll huddle up," taking the blanket out of enough of a mess to get it over his shoulders and to bring it around Romeo, if he'll join him.

"When's my next chance of getting cold? I'm sick of the train." And he's far from a guy to enjoy the cold, but screw the cold too. He does what he wants. "If this is my fifteen minutes to be outside, I'm being out here with you."