[ Annie thanks him. It's quiet but unmistakable, burning itself into that tender part of Reiner's heart that missed her so dearly. He drops his gaze to his food so he doesn't stare at her in awe. Reflects on how they don't thank each other often. Does that mean they take each other for granted? Maybe. Or maybe it's just how they are—or were?—their edges clashing without knowing how to say thank you or sorry.

For perhaps the first time, Reiner wonders what it must've been like for Bertholdt, stuck as the emotional glue while Reiner and Annie pulled in different directions. Maybe he'll ask sometime. Or maybe he'll just thank Bertholdt for it. ]

I'm an Autumn. Bertholdt is Winter.

[ Fitting, he thinks, that they should all be different seasons. ]

You'll be able to do some useful stuff if you work at it. Controlling the temperature, creating fire, making fire harmless… It's a very physical season. Autumn is more mental.