He grunted and shifted, pushing himself up into place at her request. At the sight of real food, not some canned soup or anything else, he blinked, then looked over at her. "Your people have all kinds of secrets, don't they? No wonder civilization's slogged along as much as it has." He began to eat, his injured arm around her shoulders as she pressed in close. He was quiet as he ate and drank, and once there were only crumbs left he sighed and leaned back against the headboard.<br/><br/>"What the Runners are good at, they excel at. There are a lot of skills in this group, and I respect that. But what I'm realizing is that for the most part you don't have a lot of fighters. Nobody had a rifle when we spotted the Vanguard coming up the mountain. Nobody seemed to know what to do. You've never handled a gun, and I get the sense that it's just not a common thing for Runners to do. I'm just trying to figure out how many of them I could train to be fighters, and how many fighters it would take to make a difference." He sighed and squeezed her closer. "All things to discuss when we meet to plan, I suppose."