Garret browsed the shelves with some interest, trying to pick out what good things he could from them. Cans and old bottles were stocked up, and some pitiful-looking home grown vegetables accompanied them. Not impressively sized, and probably none too tasty, but any sustenance was useful out in the dead wastelands. Casually, he plucked what appeared to be a woefully undersized bunch of celery off the shelf, giving it a light squeeze to see if it still had any firmness left to it. It was joined by a few cans of what were probably beans, along with some water.<br/><br/>His attention went from the shelves to Andrew when he spoke up. Nestling his choices under his arm, he turned his head to answer, choosing a box of some sort of corn-based flour next. "Not really. Just stuff to keep us alive on the road. Taste would be a nice bonus if we can afford it. You got any preferences?" He asked, looking at the back of the box. He wondered how long ago the box was made to still have print on it. Didn't much matter, as long as it could be eaten without poisoning them. It was added to the growing pile of food under his arm, and he absentmindedly thought aloud. "Wonder what kind of things that Alan kid likes."<br/><br/>Moving on from the food aisle, he began checking out other supplies like tools and ropes. Many were handmade, some obviously by different people and in heavily different areas of quality. A basic metal knife seemed a good draw. Garret picked it up and looked over the blade, which appeared to be hand forged and made from something pre-existing, and the handle, a mere wrapping of some sort of cord around the tang.