[ This interaction? Drops to childish in less than three seconds. She lets out a breath that mimics a horse's trill and mutters 'party pooper' with just enough volume to make sure he hears.

She walks over to stand in front of him, arms crossed in maybe a professional manner, but really it's to hide her hands from the bitter cold. ]

It would make me feel better. We can find a tree or a car, light it on fire, but before all that we'll get you some marshmallows and you can argue with me about having a better roasting technique. How's that?