Lucky. Ivan is trying to keep up his posture while on patrol, but it just isn't working when he's doing his best to conserve heat, and that requires keeping his blanket-cloak as tightly around him as possible, and his tail curled around one leg. It just seems natural, at this point, to be miserably cold all the damn time.

He doesn't even react immediately when Lahabrea speaks, because he doesn't assume it's directed at him. He just keeps trudging along.

It's a long couple steps later when he thinks maybe it might be directed at him, with the rest of the street relatively empty, and he glances up. "What?" Not necessarily that he didn't hear him, but he didn't even parse what the words meant.