...that's a new twist. For once he's not the one asking 'are we there yet?' "Just over here." Several hours of running couldn't be pleasant, and they'd slowed down to a steady plod. Raphael and Leonardo were lagging something terrible, and Michelangelo had taken to slapping his cheeks to keep himself from falling asleep on his feet.

When finally he glimpses the apartment complex through a break in the trees he gives a weary cheer. More of a mumbled 'hooray!' than anything substantial; he just can't seem to work up the energy for anything better. "Right here," he tosses over his shoulder, but the words come out thick and slow. He pauses; which window...?

It takes a moment to remember -much longer than it should have- but he recalls that he'd set a rock on the sill to mark the window to the room he'd chosen. He heads over to it, trudging through the snow, and knocks the stone aside to slide the window open for his brothers.