[ He's stunned into silence, just for a moment, and looks away, searching, as thoughts and questions start to tumble endlessly over each other in his head. He turns around, running a hand through his hair anxiously, muttering, "He's human...and he can see me." And then he turns back around, opening his mouth as though to say something, and then shuts it again, staring wide-eyed instead. Eventually he finds words. ]

Nobody ever sees me. Nobody that's human, anyway.

[ He would like to say that because he looks almost human, he is, but he knows after three centuries that's probably not the case. ]

...Humans aren't cold to the touch. They're not invisible to each other, and they can't walk right through each other. They get hungry, they get tired, they age and they die, and I don't. They can't make it snow, or talk to the wind...and I can. [ He's pacing now, turning, pausing to tap the crook of his staff against a tree trunk, but still nothing happens. He shrugs. ] Usually I can. I don't think I am human...I mean, I don't know. The only thing I do know is that I'm J...[ He looks abruptly back over to Ginko, confused. ] ...Jack Frost. But if you can see me, you'd already know that, wouldn't you?