The snow is really coming down hard now. Angeal has to admit that he never particularly liked it on the occasions when it snowed over in Midgar, and not back in the simulation either... but it's not so bad right now. He knows why. It's all the heat burning up inside of him, the benefit of being something naturally inclined to breathing out fire. Angeal has to admit its handy, even if he doesn't like anything else.

You know, like the tail he can feel poking out from the bottom of his spine now.

Genesis is never going to let him live this down.

Still, thanks to this internal heat dispenser, he can make it through the snow in a way that isn't half bad... and he does want to make it through the snow. With how it's only getting higher and higher, he's worried about how some folks will be fairing while tuck in their homes. If they didn't manage to get enough food, or firewood.

So it's for that reason which has him stepping out, going to speak with those he knows. Some of them don't need the check up and he knows it - like Elidibus and his whole crew. But he's thinking that Rosie in particular might appreciate a little extra food.

...At least, that's his thought up until he hears, past the silence of snowfall, Rosie's pitiful little voice. The apology with it.

Hopefully Rosie didn't lock her door, because Angeal is coming through no matter what, and he'll break down the damn thing to repair later. "Rosie!" Shit- he rushes over to her, kneeling on the ground to try and get a better look on her condition. The wings look bad enough but, unlike with the little Seph, there's something more to it... and he can't tell which is bad enough.

"I'm here, Rosie. I'm here." Before he does anything else too rash, he has to make sure that she can tell that much.