This is wise of Galadan; River tends to underdress for the winter. (A strong inclination towards loose fluttery clothing, perhaps, will cause this.) She's not chilly enough to be shivering, but her cheeks are pale from the cold by the time they reach the edge of the trees, and her hands (also pale) are shoved in her coat pockets again.

There are small objects in those pockets, always. She toys with some of them as they wend their way through the forest, and glances at Galadan as the trees thin ahead.