Will's a little overstimulated right now, so he alternates between looking up at Sam and looking back at the warm, cozy inside of the talking truck. He stays right where he is, arms coming to cross over his knees to try and hide how he's shivering. There's a bit of a wind kicking up and it goes right through him. Still, until Sam says he can get inside, he's not moving. Congrats, Sam, you're officially the designated Adult Type.

"No broken bones and stuff? Even though bruises are technically under the skin?" He's going to poke all the holes he can into the logic he's given.