He's been keeping an eye on their progress in making camp, and an eye on Susan, growing increasingly more worried. Not that he's ever had any difficulty with comfortable silence, but he doesn't like the way her attempts at conversation stop and start, or the way she's holding her hands clasped in front of her, unthinking.

"Looks like they've got things ready," he murmurs, and touches her on the arm to draw her to a halt. "Come with me?"

Susan blinks up at him and nods. It looks like she starts to say something, but gives it up as too much effort. Alain nods back, takes both her hands in his - gods, they're ice-cold - and rubs them a bit to warm them before he puts an arm around her and walks her back to the others.