[ ha. weak. winter is coming, friend, and it's only going to get colder from here on out.

the mention of buddies does give vil pause, before his expression absolutely shifts into one of bemusement, because honestly, claude's coming off as far too trusting right now - but vil seems to think better than to say that out loud, so that's replaced by a sound that seems vaguely like a concealed snort. ]

I... suppose. If that's how you want to put it.

[ more like acquaintances, in vil's book, but that's also not something he will say out loud!

he watches claude as he sorts out his bow and arrow and his drenched clothing in the common area, and it's with the kind of vague interest that comes with only kind of knowing the technical things that claude is doing, which is why when the question is directed at him, vil blinks, before answering: ] Me? Nothing quite as exciting as waking up drenched. [ deadpan. ] I walked through a door which was supposed to lead back to the ballroom and found myself standing in the middle of the kitchen of this house instead. Transportation magic at its finest, I assume.

[ he clearly doesn't not sound pleased, but you know, jamjar shit happens. ]