[Don't hate, he's just saying. And now he'll actually rise up out of the snow, as it's getting too cold.

He's poking through some other functions on the cuff just because - it turns out you still can draw pointless smudges, but they won't go anywhere, how helpful - when he looks up again, raising an eyebrow. Okay, that isn't how it works...]

Would you be in the mood to talk if dozens of angry, armed men were attacking you?

[A beat. Well, this is Mikael...] I couldn't get close enough, even if I had wanted to.