"You don't have to tell me twice," Owen answers, taking up the plate gratefully. He picks at the hot food with his fingers--the second it's cooled enough to pinch between, he puts it in his mouth. Maybe some people react to upheaval with some loss of appetite, or work themselves into starvation--but Owen loves to eat. He probably misses his stack of takeout menus for long nights more than a lot of things.

At least this tastes like something he'd have at home. "This is delicious," he tells her, not wanting the effort to go unappreciated.

Sitting down with the plate, he rests his back on the side of his crude boat. "How's your sail coming along?" He doesn't plan for his boat to be anything but a simple canoe, but he also doesn't plan to do more than explore the shoreline.