He does flinch a bit to the cold, both relieved and startled by it, before leaning on more fully under the touch of ice. Both his eyes are closed, with his eyebrows pinched as he adapts to the change of temperature; taking deep breaths in and out in cycles. When he manages a bit better, his good eye opens again, and a little embarrassed, he reaches to hold the ice to his face himself.

"Thanks!" They linger for a bit in what Esteban considers a rather awkward silence, and he takes a breath to say something more, before he realizes that she had asked him to keep quiet. So he watches her instead, noting how straight her shoulders are when she stands, the way she carries herself.

But she communicates with her hands. There's something so strange and foreign about the concept-- something that Esteban struggles to grasp for a moment, but that is so incredibly intriguing. How does she do it? It leaves him staring at them, watching her movements without the weariness that had clung to him earlier.