It was privately maddening for Hallbjorn to know that other men were looking at Kara. His ears detected their low, appreciative whistles, how an elbow from one male rubbed against another as he jostled to draw attention to Kara. It was a consequence of fate granting her to him that he should feel so territorial about her - that he should want to perform some sort of action to more firmly stake a claim to her than simply sharing a table. His self control was strong enough that he did not and did not allow the berserker rage to bubble in response to the possessive urges that burned inside of him.<br/><br/>He wanted to tell Kara that she looked as normal as they did. He picked up on her anxiety about being part vampire. What he told her was responsible for it, and he felt mostly bad but he knew he would feel worse if she were unprepared and some Lorean called her a leech to her face with undisguised contempt and repugnance for her. At least she had some preparation.<br/><br/>As for the pair being in love?<br/><br/>He forced himself not to think on that front. He would only break her heart.<br/><br/>The man watched while Kara ate with trepidation when the salads came. It pleased him inwardly to see her smile brightly and he watched her eat the salad with relish while he consumed his. "You will be able to enjoy everything you eat all the more soon enough." The woman would soon have heightened senses. All of them would grow sharper - perhaps unpleasantly so during the period of hypersensitivity - and with an immortally keen sense of taste food would take on whole new levels of pleasure for someone who liked food.<br/><br/>Hallbjorn glanced down at the remains of his salad - little bits of green and flecks of dressing - and realized that he did not<em>like</em>much of anything.<br/><br/>"As you have made yourself so knowledgeable on the subject," Hallbjorn said with the same practiced mask and measured tone of voice he showed her at all times, "I will leave you in charge of this all important aspect of our journey. Selecting the choicest munchies will rest entirely upon you."<br/><br/>Could that have been a slip and a bit of humour showing through?<br/><br/>Their steaks and seafood came before there was an opportunity to follow it up. Hallbjorn's steak steamed, a perfect rare. Juices pooled deliciously underneath the big cut of prime red meat, and a pair of large lobster tails soaking in real butter were nestled to either side of it. The smells were absolutely heavenly. Hallbjorn began to eat, cutting a piece of lobster off, placing it on the filet mignon, and then spearing both with his fork to bring it to his lips. The explosion of flavours in his mouth was amazing. He was glad that they were doing this. The thought felt foreign. He was having a good time. He shouldn't be. This was a job. It was not a fun road trip.<br/><br/>He ate at a sedate pace, but food disappeared quickly off of his plate while he did. "Will you want dessert?" Hallbjorn asked Kara while they ate. "Either here, perhaps at a Dairy Queen. We could get Blizzards." It occured to Hallbjorn that Jackrabbit Junction did not have a Dairy Queen. "A Blizzard is like a very thick milk shake. They add bits of candy or cookie or other sweets to it, depending on the flavour you choose."