Compared to what Carson was used to the cabin was downright luxurious. "I wish I could have met your father," he admitted. "He seems as though he was a very capable sort of man." He must have been a Land Runner, too, Carson realized. He followed her to the table and swung off his rifle and then shrugged out of his coat, draping both across the tabletop. A basement, too. He could set up a more organized archives here if it were big enough. He would have loved to have met the leader she mentioned, and wondered what sort of person they must be.<br/><br/>Where she leaned against the couch, he did so against the table. "You seemed helpless," he said with his own smile. "I pitied you. I had no clue you were this capable, or had these kinds of resources available. Not to say I'd be any less kind if I had known, but I may have been less concerned overall." He shrugged it off and watched her for a moment, allowing his eyes to linger. Beneath the fatigue and grief she was rather pretty, and the more he learned about who she really was the more he found himself respecting her. Even admiring her. This was the kind of person that the future needed to be built around. When she offered to go get the knife he began to object, but stopped himself and sighed.<br/><br/>"Okay. You know the woods better than I do. But don't detour if you can help it. Avoid any confrontations. We<i>have</i>to get that knife before it ends up in a water source or something. Hurry back." On impulse he reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. "And be careful, would you?"