Something warm envelops his shoulders. It isn't quite the invisible mantle of magicked warmth that Ambrose once conjured up for him, when he and others were dredging the lakes cold depths to rescue their sunken supplies, but the similarity of the situation isn't lost on him. It's a selfless act of generosity, unprompted, unsolicited.

Riku doesn't move but his eyes do, flitting between the way forward and over his shoulder, sometimes down, as he tries to decide what to do about this.