Jason watches the firm no, and arches a brow at the poking at his shoe. Mmh. He can repair it, but... not something he wishes to do out in the extreme cold, where hands are numb and clumsy and next-to-useless.

He catches himself eyeing a scapula in the mess of bones, a scapula that looks rather larger than human-- no, no, that would be rather rude. (And also, he thinks, ill-advised.)

"Well," he says at last, "I intend to cross the bridge and find out what is responsible, because this is damned inconvenient. Are you going to try and stop me?"