"I did," he confesses, looking a bit sheepish as he does. He knows it wasn't the most prudent decision, but by the time he considered that it felt far too late to turn around. "The streets are too thick with snow for any cars to pass."

He shakes off his coat, removes his hat, and kicks the last of the snow off his boots before he steps inside. He doesn't want to track too much dampness in. Once the door closes, he takes his gloves off as well.

"I-- well, I was worried, thinking you wouldn't be able to get out in this mess if you needed anything. I brought some tea, and scones," he says as he remembers the plastic bag hanging from his arm.