Winter cranes his neck to see, and... actually groans. "Why can't these people just. Fucking die," he grumbles, and forces himself back onto his feet. He gives the nearest shred of wax-person a vicious kick with his burned leg, well away from the other bits.

Because a couple of those pieces are already inching back towards each other, and that seems like a bad thing.

"We need to. Separate it all," he guesses, eying them, giving another piece a kick further away-- closer to Jaeger. This kicks some dust and debris over some of the bits still between the tents, which helps them to stop wiggling.