Askan sat by the ice, glaring down at it as though he hoped his sight alone was hot enough to melt it. It wasn't a problem nor did he really care how cold it was, he simply needed something to set his sights on, an inanimate object he could direct his ire at. It was just so easy to be angry, a stronger man would have tried to fight it off; to resist the urge to cave in on himself and become hallow inside but...Askan idly wondered whether he'd been destined for this path all along. He'd always been so kinetic, full of energy and frustration, but he'd thought he'd risen above that and was now more than a sum of his parts. But it seemed as though fate had a way of putting him in his place, reminding him of the true order of things. There was no escaping it, Askan was not a good man, nor was he particularly strong. He just was... Askan didn't know anymore, the truth was lost to him now.

Askan said nothing as Pietro approached. The flick of his ear was the only acknowledgement Askan offered as the Archer sat down beside him. Whatever he had to say Askan would listen, he supposed.

The pair sat in silence as Pietro's words lingered between them, thin like mountain air. Small talk. Askan couldn't decide if he liked it more or less these days. On one paw he hated lukewarm attempts at pity, there there I know you feel bullshit, but on the other he'd much prefer to keep conversations concise and to the point. Pietro no doubt had something profound up his sleeve, he was merely working up up to it. Askan would tolerate it, even if only to kill some time.

"I suppose. It brings it's own problems though..." Ones he wasn't looking forward to dealing with. Not alone at least.

Problems problems problems. Askan had plenty of those, arguably too many but he supposed it came with the job title. As a leader he'd always been aware of the risk of becoming complacent so he supposed in a sense it was good to have a lot of shit on his plate, but how much was too much? It was a question he found himself pondering often these days. Pietro's statement felt empty, like he was recalling the lyrics of a song that had long since gone out of fashion. Askan's brows creased together as he huffed, indignant. Work towards good in the end huh? Askan didn't even try to deny the sneer that twisted his features. His mother always used to lament that he looked so much more handsome when he smiled but that hardly mattered to the Selwyn. She was dead; being pretty hadn't helped her in the end.

Askan said nothing but his Medic continued nonetheless, stretching out his tangent till he finally posed the Edge Lord a question. Not the one Askan had assumed he'd ask but it was close enough. The Archer clearly had the to wits not to ask him how he was doing, it was such a loaded question that Askan would have snapped regardless of who had asked it. Had Askan been human it would have been obvious enough, but was a wolf and so his fur masked most of his secrets.

"Fine." Came his curt response. His words were sort of true, when he blinked his eyelids only felt a little heavier than they should have. "But if @Lae kicks me again in her sleep I'll have her paw." It was an empty threat, he'd do no such thing.

It wouldn't be hard, she was a frail old thing, but then of course he never intended to murder or maim her. The mere thought was abhorrent, so impalpable that the thought clearly didn't belong in his mind. He was in a tough spot, no doubt, but had he sunk this low? No fucking way. Askan shot his medic a pointed look when he finally got around to extending his offer. The inclination to shoot him down without even mulling it over was so very tempting, a sharp no bounced on the end of his tongue but he swallowed it down and pretended to consider the Archer's words. Then again he'd never been a good actor.

Regardless, he had his own place. Sort of. It had been for him and Reyes but he was gone now so it was his now, funny how it had all worked out. Not for the best.

"Nah." It was casually dismissive, like he'd been offered the scraps of a half eaten meal. "I don't need a spooning buddy." His tone grew sharper then, abhorrent almost. It was rude, no doubt, but so very Askan.

Askan was all for spitting out acidic words but he'd never been good at receiving them in turn. He stood then, his movements stiff and robotic as he cast Pietro a scathing look. It was no doubt banter, but Askan clearly wasn't in the mood for pesky jibes. He'd sooner eat his own vomit. His demeanour was remarkably cold for a man who burned so hot, his hackles remained flat and his tail hung limp between his legs. Maybe he was taking a page from Pietro's calm and collected book, only that his execution was far more rugged and rough around the edges.

"Is that all?" Askan rumbled, his voice taut and tense.

There was more to this than mere annoyance; all of it was too much, teetering dangerously close to territory that was best left alone. In many ways Askan was like the frozen over Shallows, a little too much pressure and- crack.