Viktor lets himself be scooped and dragged, the stabbing knives of the cold slice at his feet -- and he doesn't mind. Tired of feeling sad and dejected, he doesn't mind tackling new sensations. It means he's still alive.

"It's definitely not a school day." He tries to wriggle out from Klaus' grasp, but Viktor is an easily portable package within his brother's vast wingspan. He clasps his ice-cold hands onto Klaus' neck, an attempted distraction during which he can break free.

"Guess I forgot," Viktor reports, a little smile sweeping over his lips like cold breath on a windowpane. "How resilient we are."