The young man who entered resembled a turtle more than a person at this point in time, with a backpack stuffed to the gills hanging high on his back. The hood of his heavy winter coat was up, and as he walked, one could hear the strain in his voice. It was apparent he'd been lugging the backpack a significant distance, and once in front of the counter he removed it from his shoulders, sighing in no small amount of relief.<br/><br/>He wasn't a local, it seemed, but the barista greeted him with a friendly smile anyway.<br/><br/>"I'll have a mocha," he said, still panting heavily from the exertion of what seemed to be a very long walk. "Largest one you have. Weather's getting awful out there, so I'll probably be here for a while."<br/><br/>The barista chuckled, but nodded by way of reply, gesturing over to the nearby tables. His hand was halfway to his wallet when he realized that this was a table service cafe. His head cocked to one side, but he nodded at Marge and began to drag his heavy backpack out of the way of any further customers. Order of business one was to slide his backpack under the nearest table he could find. With that taken care of, he pulled back the hood of his coat, revealing short brown hair and a face that was bright red from the cold. He reached up to wipe melted snow from his glasses, and finally let his shoulders relax, a sigh of relief escaping his throat as he began to survey the coffee shop.<br/><br/>"Didn't think I'd make it here," he murmured, to himself, looking over the elderly couple as they enjoyed their drinks, and then to a younger face, closer to his age, or at least he thought so.<br/><br/>He smiled at her and waved. He'd be here for a while, at this rate, and considering his cell phone was out of battery and his backpack was packed primarily with clothes for what was to have been a trip home, company would be ideal. He'd avoided freezing to death; the risk of death by boredom was only slightly less serious.