[The taste of blood is never something he thinks on much... But its appearance paints an intriguing picture in his mind's eye as he chuckles weakly at her comment, unfazed by its off color. He shudders and tugs his knees tighter to his chest, putting forth the effort to look up at Diva with a persisting upturn to the corners of his lips. She looks... so warm... She's the picture of preparing for the simulation, and Henry wonders where he went wrong in that regard. Reluctance to do it at all, probably.]

D-done for? Pssh, no way. I won't go down that easily. Just... [He claps together his hands and slides them between his bony knees, aiming to steal whatever warmth's coming from his thighs to regain some of the sensation in his digits.] Just have to thaw out. As awesome as blood-cicles would be, I'm n-not about to let it be made out of MY blood.

[Yet he hardly feels as though he's able to produce enough warmth to do much good for himself. Henry succumbs to the tautness in his muscles and falls backwards onto his butt, readjusting his cape more snugly around his person in an attempt to insulate himself. The rocky ground, however, is just another source of cold. Another shudder courses through his body, and Henry exhales weakly.]