[ There's no response from Claude on the first part but a grumble, since - that probably sums up any and all complaining he could've done aloud between that and the blank Teach-like expression he'd received to go along with it. As Hilda tugs on his hands he promptly goes as limp as possible purely for the sake of being difficult. The grin on his face probably says as much when they barely move. ]

Maybe, but maybe I don't trust myself to not end up sprawled out on the ice if I move any more than this.

[ Or some other such nonsense; playfully he wiggles his fingers in her grasp as if that's all the help ("help") he's really going to provide. Something Hilda's well familiar with from many times before, and it's not lost on Claude that even if he's laying down on this ice like it's any old field where he might've gone to take a nap once upon a time that all of this comes with familiar comfort. That's the right word for it with Hilda's laughter warmer than any forty-five layers he might put on to ward off the cold. That could do it all on its own and then some.

Not a second later Claude frees one of his hands to not take Hilda down with him as he rolls over onto his stomach before grabbing her hand in his again. ]

Alright, now what? Don't tell me I'm gonna have to jump up onto my feet from here or something.

[ He could probably do it if he really tried, but where's the fun in doing that immediately? ]