Carl chuckled at her words, working with a fork to flip the frying strips of bacon over in the pan. He made no noise to keep the sound quiet. It was clear from her tone she knew he was there. He began to whistle to himself as he turned, leaving the bacon to fry as he pulled a container of refrigerator biscuits from a bag. This was a rare treat for him, as most perishables were unavailable when he stayed here. He opened the cardboard can, peeling back the paper until it popped at the seam. Still whistling, he placed the biscuits on a pan, spacing them evenly, and slid them into the oven. The iron, woodburning oven he used was old, primitive, but it suited a life lived in nature. no lines were ever run to this place. no electricity, gas, or water. Which mean no one but himself knew it was here. The government was not aware of it, as he'd built it himself, by hand, with his father. No city permit was ever filed. No utility company serviced it. He was completely removed from modern civilization here. She would have to depend on him completely.<br/><br/>After pulling the bacon from the pan, leaving it on a plate lined with a paper towel, he moved back to the supplies he'd carried in. This time he pulled out a carton of eggs, if the biscuits were rare, eggs like this were a delicacy. The closest he could ever come was wild eggs pulled from nests in spring time. He drained the frying pan, but left the residue of bacon grease in the pan to give the eggs flavor. The pleasant popping of frying eggs set his heart to dancing. Today would surely be a marvelous day. Any day that started like this would have to be wonderful. Glancing back at the door his love rested behind, he grinned.<br/><br/>Yes. Wonderful indeed.<br/><br/>Another chuckle rose from his chest as he continued with his cooking.