The two figure silently trudged in the snow. The elder of the two a few paces before the other. "Craig, your walking too fast."
The dark haired brunette glanced at the stumbling blonde six year old. Sharp silver eyes glared at the mass of stumbling clothing items with annoyance. "Then hurry up." As he spoke the last remaining breathe of Craig's' cigarette slipped through his teeth and scarf. The tiny girl finally made her way through the thick snow. The boy shoved his hands deep into the his jeans still keeping an uninterested eyes on the child before him. Her cheeks were a bright red along with her nose, the girls hands were a bright pink and clumsily tried to rub against one another. The thin jacket she wore was not shielding her from the bitter Colorado cold, and it was still a long way from the drug store. "My hands are cold." She mummbled. Though he would never admit it Craig, held a soft spot for his sister. He rarely showed it though, it was rather once in a blue moon he did anything for the kid. He didn't give a shit about anyone, including his parents; so he plainly ignored the girl as they turned the corner.
After seeing her trying hard to draw back the oncoming snot it was rather obvious that today would be one of these rare days for the first-born Tucker. Groaning he stopped the younger, glassy brown eyes stared into his at the sudden change of pace. Crouching down in the snow Craig pulled his scarf of and clumsily wrapped it around the younger. It covered half her face and still could reach her knee, she wasn't protesting so far, and she was still rubbing her hands together. He decided to do what his mother usually did when he was around her age. Craig took the tiny hands into his own and vigorously rubbed them together while blowing on them. After a while, colour began to return to the pale hands he made a mental note to pass by the coffee shop down the road, the cold was gonna get to him: maybe he could get his sister some. "Next time take a pair of gloves." Craig didn't give shit that six year-old wasn't supposed to drink caffeine. He could use it as sort of make-shift hot bottle. Glancing down once more he saw that half her face was now buried in the nicotine smelling scarf. And for a brief second Craig Tucker could feel the twitch of his smile on his frozen features.