"Ah, the husband's awake. Nice to know you don't die quickly." said Sanzo bitterly as he got up. "Hakuuryu's wing was frozen and broken during the attack. We'll be here for a while if we don't all die of cold first."

"Salt in an open wound, Sanzo. See to your pet and I'll see to my wife, okay?" Ruby red eyes narrowed in his direction, mirrored by equally scornful violet ones. With a "humph" Sanzo left the two and Gojyo's glance softened a bit, turning towards Tenpou who in turn was struck dumb by the term 'wife'.

"Forget about it. Sanzo's just bitching as usual. It wouldn't have made a difference if we were here or not."

A feeble lie far from comforting. Even in the way Gojyo said it, the marshal knew that the redhead didn't seem all too disposed towards forgiveness. Silence reigned after that. Every bit of him a Kenren. Kenren never asked questions. Kenren, who only needed silence to say, 'tell me'. Kenren, who gave and gave, never assuming. Who always smoked off a grudge before coming back into your arms.

Tenpou sat, miserably watching as Gojyo's shaking hands lit a cigarette. The cold must have affected him more than it did Hakkai's body which was one-hundred percent youkai. Guessing on the hair and eye color- the shade of the sunset- Gojyo was only half-half. With half the resistance to cold that Tenpou now had.

Outside, the storm fiercely ravaged the sturdy canvas, and deep inside, the fallen god prayed that the standing buildings of the village would be enough to give shelter to the people now homeless- no thanks to him. The tent provided little warmth and the half-breed was inching as close to the fire as rationally possible, taking care not to get burned by the flying sparks. Granted, he was pushing his limits and every other minute, a piece of hot ash would fly into his skin. He'd curse. Profusely. And Tenpou would wince.

Neither talked. Tenpou, out of shame and Gojyo, he figured, out of disgust. Silence save for the high pitched whistling winds that came like screams through the night. Crept under the tent and gave sharp knives to the feverish half-youkai's badly healing wounds.

His hand shook violently and the cigarette met a hellish end in the fire. "Shit..."

"I'm sorry, Gojyo." Tenpou muttered after a long while of self-berating. "I should have-"

"People thinking in terms of 'should haves' don't live very long around here." Gojyo replied through clattering teeth, stretching out under the thin blanket and staring into the flames; envying it.