"Perhaps the inn or one of the kitchens?" she suggests. While her own hasn't been stocked with anything that would be useful in this instance, she still holds out hope that someone else might have the supplies he needs. She gives him a disapproving look when he uses dirty hands to pick at the food, but it's also not like she can offer him a better solution, so she'll have to let it rest as it is. "Is the vinegar for the arrowheads or the drone?" she asks, taking a seat in the makeshift workshop, feeling a wash of familiarity over her.

All that's missing is the overwhelming ego that seems to follow Howard Stark and his scientific ilk around (given how both Wilkes and Samberley had been so utterly similar when it came to discoveries). Honestly, you dangle the prospect of naming something in front of them and they go mad. "Do you think it's actually possible to get the drone working?" she asks.