Steve laughs at that, despite everything. "It just is? It's Jersey."

Which isn't an answer at all, is it.

"It's - mostly hot air, I guess," he admits, still swinging the flashlight around, trying to stay planted in one place when he wants to move, to start circling, to find his way back to the path, or to winter. But Winter's right - one of them should hold still. Even if he's not on the path now, once they find each other, they can find the path together. He'll hold hands if he has to; he doesn't want to get separated again.

"A lot of people work in the city but live in Jersey. I think those of us who're actually from New York don't like all the, uh. Outsiders."

Yeah, trying to explain a mostly nebulous rivalry that everyone just accepts in logical terms is really killing the vibe.