[Fingers curl a little against his arms as he hisses out a small sound of irritation, tipping his head back to look at the clouds overhead. They were flashing lightly, a storm that's brewing far enough away to not cause them problems--other than making it impossible to send messages, that is.
He resists the urge to reach forward to rough the dirt off of Jesse's clothing himself, finally leaning against the hunk of space junk that was once a working spaceship.]
Rely on the rations we have on board and survive. [Roughly, tipping his head back with a cocky 'obviously' sort of motion.] I don't care if it's not filling or if it tastes like shit--nutrients are nutrients.
[Probably something he's said to Jesse before--how disgustingly nostalgic.] You brought your gun, didn't you. You've got more than enough protection--unless your aim's gotten shittier in the last few years.
no subject
He resists the urge to reach forward to rough the dirt off of Jesse's clothing himself, finally leaning against the hunk of space junk that was once a working spaceship.]
Rely on the rations we have on board and survive. [Roughly, tipping his head back with a cocky 'obviously' sort of motion.] I don't care if it's not filling or if it tastes like shit--nutrients are nutrients.
[Probably something he's said to Jesse before--how disgustingly nostalgic.] You brought your gun, didn't you. You've got more than enough protection--unless your aim's gotten shittier in the last few years.