He's already starting to rush, hoping Milla doesn't hold it against him. His grip tightens at her words and he grits his teeth. "Don't. Keep talking. Tell me how to take care of them. Tell me what to do."

Nearly skidding to a stop besides the car- fucking ice- he scrambles inside. Not once does he let go of Milla, even if it makes getting inside means his head smacking against the roof and his spine grinding against the top of the door opening. Blood is getting everywhere. He doesn't care.

"Get it going, Eth!" The fact that his best friend apparently doesn't know how to drive- are there even keys, he can't see- doesn't concern him.