Isaac suppressed a laugh, scratched his head and nodded.  "Sure.  Mole rat steaks sound pretty good, right about now, if my stomach growling is any indication."

He was actually about to relent on the shooting training when she groaned, thinking that maybe he was being a bit over-zealous and pushing her too hard.  Fact was, he hardly knew her - they were perfect strangers - and here he was determined to give her marksmanship lessons.  Not to mention, she'd just escaped slavery - likely malnutrioned, overworked and now walking the lonely miles, all day.  Give the girl a break!  But right before he could say anything, she gave him a solid answer.  She was tough alright, but she'd already proven that.

"Alright, let's step outside," Isaac quipped ironically.  "After you, doll-face."

He foraged a few tin cans from the immediate area, then set them up on the fence-posts that marked what was once... a garden maybe? It was hard to tell, the ground everywhere around here was a mix of concrete silt and dirt, broken up periodically by torn up roads of tarmac.  Isaac wasn't bothered.  He didn't really think about the state of the environment much, nor what it might've been before.  Once upon a time, as a greenhorn vault dweller newly emerged, that was all he thought about.  Constantly comparing the pictures and words he'd seen and read in books, to reality.  That kind of thinking only led to despair and he soon grew out of it.

"So; Weaver Stance," he started as he walked back from the targets, towards her.  He smiled and bounced his eyebrows in mock excitement.  "You'll need to set your feet shoulder-width apart, right foot back, left hip turned towards the target."  He demonstrated for her, then walked up to her and checked her feet.  He tapped his foot against her back foot, "Move it back an inch.  There.  You're good. Now: Take aim."

After going over the details of what he'd told her in the molerat shoot-out, he repeated anything she needed to hear again and showed her his own stance to give her the visual.  He looked over her form and nodded, then without thinking about the potential consequences, he moved up against her.  His chest touched her back, his right hand on her right shoulder as his left hand adjusted her aim slightly.  He was busy looking down the gun sights when he suddenly realised he could hear her breathing, and that's when it occured to him how close they were.

"?" Her smell, her body heat - it all completely distracted him from what he was meant to be doing and he looked at her.  Eye to eye - this close up - that vivid green gaze was just as interesting as ever.