His breath shuddered out of him, turning white in the late winter air. He hurt, why did he hurt?
“Why do I hurt?”
His voice sounded breathless and he wondered why. He could actually see his breath because of the temperature. Which led him to another question
“Why aren’t I cold?”
He should be cold because the temperature is low enough that he can see the water in his breath crystallizing. He was not the kind of person who ‘ran warm’ as his mother used to put it. He was always cold even in the middle of summer when it was pushing 99 degrees Fahrenheit.
He gave up on trying to figure out just why he wasn’t cold and closed his eyes instead.