I. Go out there? Are you crazy? That's what Kit is for.

II. Dragged along to the party by his well-meaning "business partner", Ben contents himself with a mug of mulled wine as he watches the festivities from a little table in the corner. For all that he is perpetually sour, he does at least seem a little calmer than usual, listening raptly to the musicians and enjoying the protection of Kit being right there to field any incoming attempts at socializing.
This could be worse.

III. (closed to Kit) "It's too early," he already complained when the snow first started to fall, and now he sits by the window in grumpy resignation, watching as the town is covered in a white shroud from which he knows full well they won't emerge for half a year.
Back in Fairport winters were sensible. Even in Cliffside they didn't really start until December. This place is like a wintry prison that opens its gates for about three months to let the inmates see some sunlight, then closes them again.
Forehead pressed against the glass, he resembles a child wishing they could go out and play.