For a moment, he wasn’t sure Urudal was even listening.  Agreement wasn’t something he had expected, even if it did come with some macho line about being mostly fine.  Ilion rolled his eyes and leaned back against his own ship, arms folded.  It bothered him that Urudal was so relaxed.  Perhaps it was his own paranoia and tension from being stranded, because looking at the larger man shrug off injury and risk with such a cool and calm demeanor was enough to set him on edge.<br/><br/>He’d been a spy for too long.  It felt off.<br/><br/>Then something Urudal said caught him off guard again, and his pale eyes widened, not so much at the offer but rather what the food was.<br/><br/>“Peaches?” he echoed, frozen in place for a few spare moments before pushing away from the Sidriel and heading over to confirm Urudal wasn’t misreading the label.<br/><br/>He was judging, again, wasn’t he?  Assuming a man like that would be stuck on a diet of meats.  Storage inside the Lily couldn’t have been vast, and long trips in space could be hard.  Why would someone who must have burnt through a lot of calories just existing bother taking up space with something that could’ve been used for jerky or emergency nutrition bars?  The only logical conclusion was because he<i>liked</i>them.  It was less likely to be a nutritional need.<br/><br/>“You don’t come across as a fruit eater,” he admitted.<br/><br/>Ilion sat on the ground and, safe from the burning sun under the Lily’s shadow, pushed back the hood covering his head.<br/><br/>“Sure.  Peaches sound good.”<br/><br/>Ilion tapped his fingers against his bent knees before looking off toward the forest.  He hadn’t been joking about the possibility of predators.  They were somewhat less intimidating in broad daylight, but what of being caught at night?  Urudal wasn’t likely a deep sleeper, but he was injured and slowed, and neither of them knew what to expect.<br/><br/>“You don’t have to sleep out here, you know,” Ilion began, not quite meeting the other’s eyes.  It was hard to make it seem like a professional courtesy and not some sort of soft side showing, but he’d do his best.  “I can make room for you in the Sidriel.  Just… don’t go poking around, okay?  I don’t feel like deactivating a bunch of security protocols to save your ass from getting zapped.”  Seraph was really not going to like it if their guest went messing about unsupervised, and Ilion couldn’t blame him.