it's exactly what it looks like

Don't put your happiness in other people's hands

Another day was drawing to a close. Sunlight faded quickly and the temperatures plummeted. A storm had been brewing on the horizon throughout the day, looking as though it might strike the Citadel during the night, and it was everything they didn't need at the moment. Korbin was making the last round, to tell workers to put down their tools and head for shelter, ensure that everyone really actually had someplace to stay, and as he passed by, he made sure to pick up things that needed delivering to the Academy anyway. It was his last stop before he too had to withdraw.

He looked a bit like a door salesman when he turned his back to push open the big front doors of the Academy with a shoulder. In his arms, he balanced a pile of folded blankets, a crate of food supplies and spare crockery, and from each arm hung a basket of firewood. It was just as heavy as it looked, and he staggered under the weight of it as he struggled with the door, over careful as he really didn't want to drop anything.

It didn't help that he was bone weary, frost-bitten in face and hands, and hadn't slept more than a few hours here and there since the attack. Korbin had lost count of the days. Was it one, or three nights ago now? Time was a blur, and he couldn't be bothered to keep track.

They'll drop it

KORBIN