Roze attempted to make small talk as they steadily ascended the mountain. Vincent didn't blame her too much for it; mortals often needed to talk about nothing at all just to keep themselves occupied. Vincent, on the other hand, was quite used to silence and solitude. At one point he had imposed a vow of silence onto himself, partially to see how long he could keep it up, and partially to reprimand himself for becoming involved in a series of events that nearly ended with him accidentally getting married. He had kept his tongue for fifteen years until he was forced to speak, at that moment rejecting a woman at their wedding altar. The world was a strange and unforgiving place.

Even so, he didn't feel like revealing too much to this girl; he was only humoring her, after all. "Cold is nothing to me." He said, bluntly, "Heat is... discomforting." His laconic answer was merely followed by the whipping of the wind as he continued on.