Mystic lights
He woke up stiff and cold, half tempted to do something about the lack of warmth. What, he had no clue. He warily sat up, noting a dark haired man still sleeping and a dirty blonde man crouching down, either in deep thought or on high alert. A woman was on the ground, but was also stirring. Looking at the destruction, he shook his head, and like his two comrades, took a place on the floor quietly, wrapping himself in the cloak he wore. He wasn't sure why no one was talking, but perhaps it was better not to break the silence. At least, not until the last comrade had woken.
Bored after a few moments, he absently put his forefinger and thumb together, creating a ball of light. He let it go, and it floated in between the two already awake. The woman looked at him curiously, and he created a few more, of varying sizes. She didn't seem to mind, and gently touched one that came over to her. She focused a moment, and the light seemed to turn red, which she sent back to him. She had made it warm, somehow.
The other man just frowned, but didn't do anything as the two played with the lights. He seemed more focused on the woman for some reason, but she managed to multitask watching the lights and quietly sharpening her small knife.
He hoped someone would talk soon. He'd much rather find out what was wrong and how they would survive than play, but until someone talked . . .
Well, at least the lights were decent company.