There's a small comfort that Squall tries not to feel at the thought of Seifer getting to eat a hot meal. Sure, it's an MRE, but if they're staying a few days, he can go into town to collect any additional provisions...Irrational fear wars with the thought though. He really doesn't want to let Seifer out of his sight. After the way they clashed, after Seifer's insistence that he's still some monster in need of slaying, Squall's never seen a bigger flight risk...not because he thinks Seifer's afraid of what awaits them in Esthar but because of whatever noble inclinations he's still holding onto.

"Revolver is buried not too far from here. If any of the tools you found need additional sharpening or oiling, we can use what's in my kit." It hadn't seemed wise to bring a weapon or his own supplies. Not when he couldn't be sure how his arrival would be received. The coffee in his hands isn't as warm as the fire had been sitting beside it, but the place is heating up slowly but surely.

His gaze absorbs the interior then sweeps down to the table, seeing where Seifer might have had a hand in its restoration and running his touch along the grain. "I've never built anything beyond rudimentary shelter. The basics," he clarifies of their lessons. "I'm sure I'll figure it out."