"You say that like I get into trouble on purpose." Howard presses his lips together and shakes his head, then licks some run-off from his nose from his upper lip. He jams his hands in his pockets and kicks his way onto the sidewalk, glittering with salt and tread.

For once, he's let his Stylist run a little wild. His scarf has intricate gold embroidery of nutcrackers and rocking horses, and his red gloves have little tassels around the wrist. Though it's hard to look dapper when wearing your own body weight in warm clothing, he manages to look both stylish and painfully festive.

"Whatcha got there?"