The snow was deep and Rocket was short. He'd experienced snow in Gotham, and had generally decided to stay indoors at Sanctuary or wherever until it was gone. If he went anywhere, it was because he could hitch a lift on somebody's carriage or horse or shoulder.

That wasn't so much an option in the Inn, but the place was smaller so fuck it: Rocket went out in the snow. He'd amused himself a little by traveling under the snow and ambushing people with snow attacks, but that ended with him being cold and having to shake snow out of his fur.

Quill by a bonfire seemed like an opportunity to get out of the snow. Without any warning or asking for permission, Rocket climbed on his back and up to his shoulder, then started picking ice crystals out of his tail.