The smell of burning bodies is always the worst. No matter how often it comes up. No matter how many times you have to deal with it. He thought he was more used to it, on Omega. Maybe he had been. Maybe he was getting soft. But they move on, they deal with varren and occasionally a very overzealous carrion bird.

And the sudden shift from broiling to freezing is never fun, either. Again, he doesn't complain. Just sets about his tasks around the campsite. Settling in once Shepard does, though closer to the fire than she likely is.

"Hey, don't worry about me. I like this kind of weather." And he may or may not have been keeping his strides shorter for the duration of their march. As per usual when traveling with humans. And her. "Glad it's not snowing. But... did we really have to bring varren with us? Why not something nice? Like your fish."