The world feels like it's coming back into focus. Not much, but a little: enough to make out Dejah's face, wrapped as it is in all her layers. He's still cold as hell, but he can deal with cold. He knows the cold.
"'S ten car lengths," he tries to inform her through his chattering teeth. "Yeah?"
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"'S ten car lengths," he tries to inform her through his chattering teeth. "Yeah?"