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Of all the things Cobb Vanth thinks of himself as, cynical is not one of them. He might lean towards considering himself a realist, possibly pragmatic if you're feeling generous, maybe even slightly skeptical, but not cynical. And his current situation is not about to prove him wrong.
Hunkered down between a pair of speeders and a small collection of bolders, he has his scarf drawn up over his nose and mouth. It offers little protection, especially against the feeling of sand creeping into his boots and down the back of his shirt. The goggles rub grit against the bridge of his nose, but at least he can see beyond the length of his arm. He crosses his arms and sinks further behind the seemingly shrinking cover given he and his companion.
"Don't." He hears it before he can even turn his head. He'd laugh if he wasn't wary of inhaling more sand.
"Wasn't going to say a damned thing." The sand around his legs settles as he shifts, trying to gain some sort of comfort in his current predicament.
A grunt is his only response and he sees a glint of shiny, perfect beskar a few feet next to him. This time he does laugh, a quiet chuckle that only seems to irritate the moody Mandalorian next to him. His companion grumbles and somehow scoots closer, shoulder bumping against Cobb's. The warmth of the metal seeping through his clothes makes him sigh.
"He'll be fine. Better than we are, anyways."
"Hmm." More shuffling and the beskar presses against him from thigh to hip to shoulder. The speeders jostle in the wind and press the Mandalorian impossibly closer to him and a helmeted head comes to rest on his shoulder.
"You think next time, maybe I might just know what I'm talking about when it comes to these damn sandstorms?"
"There might be something to be said for trusting the locals."
He outright laughs at that. "I'll hold you to that." He shifts his arm, hand sitting palm up in his lap. He admires the way the beskar shines even in a sandstorm as his hand is gripped.
The wind howls around them and despite knowing the storm will blow over shortly, he thinks there are worse places to be. It might not be ideal, but with thoughts of the kid waiting in Mos Pelgo for them Cobb can't help but be a bit optimistic about their chances.