Drifters leaving their children in settlements was not an uncommon tale.  Life on the road was hard, even for an adult, and there was always some sterile couple in a village or town who wouldn't mind raising adopting a child to call their own.  How life had turned out for Zara, she might have been better off being raised as a drifter, but who could know?  Maybe she wouldn't be alive today if her mother hadn't given her up to the farmers.  The wasteland was a harsh place, no two ways about it.

[i]Oh for fuck's sake, she's talking about having kids, change the topic Isaac![/i] was the blaring emergency alarm ringing out in his mind.

"Well, maybe 'missing out' means you at least know what [i]not[/i] to do, right?" he offered as some consolation.  [i]Damn it, asshole, for the love of God, change the topic![/i]  "But hey, you're a free woman now.  There's gotta be a bunch of stuff you wanna do first, before you tie yourself down."  New York didn't exactly offer a wide variety of extra-curricular activites but still...  "You got any ambitions or goals?  Taste some good food, learn something, see a sight, anything like that?"

When the food was done, he killed the fire, grabbed his eating-dish and spork from his backpack for her.  "Dinner is served," he said with a grin as he handed it over.  He ate his own right off the skewer, using his combat knife as an eating utensil.  Pretty drab as dinners go, but it was quite cozy for him, who was used to eating alone and entertaining himself with his own thoughts.

"How is it?" he asked after a few bites.  He silently made a bet with himself on wether or not she'd lie politely and compliment his cooking skills.