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singmod) wrote in singillppl2025-02-05 07:03 pm
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February 2025 Test Drive Meme
FEBRUARY 2025 TDM
PROMPT ONE — ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST: A new group of arrivals find themselves lost in the frozen wilds and vulnerable to the dangers of nature. With luck, they make it to the town of Milton, and to a friendly face offering food, warmth and shelter — and the current inhabitants, their fellow survivors.
PROMPT TWO — WINTER'S BITE: Tales of superstition from the Northern Territories appear to come to light in the form of fearsome creatures made of ice and bone.
PROMPT THREE — FROZEN HEARTS: A strange, new affliction causes Interlopers to find themselves figuratively and literally turning to ice, and there's only one way of saving them.
ARRIVAL: METHUSELAH'S FEAST
WHEN: Start of the month.
WHERE: Milton, Milton Outskirts.
CONTENT WARNINGS: potential animal attacks, potential injuries, potential cold injuries/hyperthermia risk.
'You are the Interloper. You are not part of nature’s design.'
It’s the last thing you hear. A dark, deep voice. Impossibly ancient. You feel afraid. Maybe you’re dreaming, maybe you’re wide awake. You saw the lights, and then your world went dark. But you hear it in the blackness, you won’t forget those words.
These are the words of the Darkwalker, you’ll soon come to find.
You awaken. You are not where you were before. It’s different for everyone, there doesn’t seem to be much of a pattern in where you find yourself. You may open your eyes to find yourself in a cold, dim and dank cabin. The air is stale, dust hangs in the rays of weak sunlight that shine through the tiny windows. Someone lived here once, but they aren’t to be found. This place has been ransacked, abandoned long ago. It is quiet. The wood creaks around you.
Or perhaps you may awaken to find yourself shivering in the yawning maw of a cave, the freezing stone below you. Or maybe you’re unfortunate enough to sit up to find yourself lying in the snow, in the middle of the wilderness. Snow lies thick around you. It’s freezing out. You haven’t felt a cold like this before in your entire life. Cruel and biting. You have no idea where you are, and what’s worse — you are completely alone.
The daylight is thin. Hours are few. It will get dark soon.
You may feel different, too. Any powers or magics you may have feel... absent. Disconnected. Things that may not have affected you previously now do. Something in you has changed.
You know you can’t stay where you are. You’ll need to move, try to work out where you are and how you came to be here. So you walk, head out into the unknown, in hope of finding a trail or a road. You’ll find one soon enough. It’s here you may find someone else in the same boat as yourself, equally freezing and confused. You’ll both need to keep going. It won’t be easy. You hear howls of wolves around you, and the terrain is difficult: slips and falls are likely. You’re completely vulnerable out here in the open.
Or it’s possible you may come across someone else here. Someone who looks far better prepared to deal with the freezing cold and frozen landscape, out hunting or gathering. They’ll likely offer help and get you into town. However, for the unlucky ones who don’t come across anyone, you’ll carry on until you see it: the lazy trail of smoke rising in the air. Fire. Not just one, but several. Civilization...?
Follow it, and soon enough the way you’ve taken will certainly become a path or road. Unfolding before you in the mountainous forests, you’ll see the most welcome of sights: a small mining town tucked up in the valley. Battered, rusted road signs will direct to “MILTON, POP. 947”. You’re almost there, you keep going, and it looks like other people have had the same idea as you. In fact, you’ll hear the muffled sounds of life. People! In the town!
As you head into the outskirts and then further into town, you’ll find it’s a little easier to walk but the cold has gripped you hard. You’ll find the buildings, both shops and homes, some are dark and lifeless, some of them are boarded up, some of them are occupied. People are going about their business, or stood watching from their tiny porches of their small, timber homes. For a town this big, there doesn’t seem to be many people. Several dozen at most, but no more.
Towards the center of town, you’ll find the building from which the biggest of the smoke trail rises: a school-house of sorts, or some kind of community hall. Perhaps both. You’ll find more and more people all drawn to this place, each and every one of them in the same position as yourself (and your companion, if you’ve found one). Some are in worse states than others: some are bloodied, nursing bite wounds or cuts; others might have some other kind of injury sustained in the journey here from falls. Others may look as if they could faint from the cold at any second.
The door opens, and you’re greeted by the gnarled, wizened face of an elderly man, dressed in thick furs. He has a kind face. He smiles warmly, and with pity, ushering you in with haste.
“They come again. I had thought we may not see more of you.” he nods gravely. No, this is not the first time that this has happened. “I am Methuselah. I welcome you, Newcomer, although I’m sorry for how you’ve come to find yourself here. You are not the only one, the lights are changing things. Come. Mother Nature has not been kind to you, but there are plenty here to help.”
The room is dim, lit only by natural daylight through the windows. A roaring fire sits at one end of the huge hall. It crackles, bright and cheerful... and warm. Even as big as this place is, the room is pleasantly warm. You’ll also find basic cots set up down one side of the hall, and while it seems there's a few people already living here, there's enough space for those in need of them. There's places to rest for a moment and get your bearings, or just trying to recover from the cold. Down the other side are tables and chairs, and long tables laden with food, drinks and bottled water similar to one might find at a soup kitchen. Once again, Methuselah offers a feast, aided by some of the other Interlopers.
There are canisters with hot herbal teas, mostly. But some coffee can be found. There’s also soup and stew and trays of charred deer and rabbit meats, plus some grilled fish. It’s very basic, but it’s hot and filling. A feast for those who have battled the cold to come here.
Methuselah will continue to busy himself, still; there is plenty to do. He will fetch blankets, tend to wounds, serve food and drinks — aided by a handful of others in the Hall. Your fellow survivors, but those who have been here for some time now. He does not have much time to talk. More and more people seem to be coming in from the cold. He will not stop to sit and rest until everyone is seen to, taking up a place by the fire to gaze silently into its flames.
He will encourage newcomers to get warm and eat, and when they are ready to — they can explore the town and find one of the many empty homes to call their own. He will not speak much, but gesture to your fellow survivors. They will have better answers than him.
WINTER'S BITE
WHEN: The Month of February.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural beings; magical beings; potential cold injuries; potential cuts/bleeding
Amongst the original inhabitants to the Northern Territories, superstition and folk tales were much more prominent — stemming from a mix of superstitions that settlers brought with them to the area and those beliefs of people native to Northern Territories. Some are familiar to Interlopers, others may be less so.
Much of this is now lost, with the population of Milton dead or gone, but some writings can be found in the town. Some wrote of their superstitions in regards to the changing weather and wildlife in personal journals in the lead up to what is known as The Flare, which may still be found in the empty homes uninhabited by Interlopers. Some note feeling as if 'the souls of the animals are angered somehow' or that the changes to the Aurora may be as if 'the afterlife comes too close to the world'.
Maybe they had a point, maybe they were on to something. It’s hard to really say for sure.
Whether it’s magic, some supernatural cause, or something caused by the Aurora, there’s a strange shifting in snow that blankets the Northern Territories. Throughout the month, angry chittering and clacking — like glass or bones — can be heard out in the wilds. Out of the corner of one’s eye, they may see the snow move of its own accord — with confronting it leading to nothing, and stillness.
For a time.
Until whatever it is finally strikes.
Out from the snow, spectral creatures comprised of ice and animal bone spring forwards — jittering and clunky in their movements. Long bodies that twist and dance in the air, all sharp teeth and even sharper ice. Is it a kind of animal? Or spirit? Some mix of both? An angered spirit of nature or some long dead animal? It’s hard to tell for sure.
Despite their clunky movements, their bodies rolling and jaws chattering, these strange spectral creatures are fast and they’ll strike hard — looking to take a chunk out of the unsuspecting and unprepared Interlopers. Even just brushing against one of these strange creatures can lead to some nasty lacerations if they knock themselves hard enough against you. What’s maybe worse than the lacerations themselves is the wounds will burn with their chill, colder than anything you’ve ever felt.
But being made out of bone and ice means they are also just that. Blunt force may just be enough to end up shattering the bodies of these creatures, sending their remains flying. Be careful, though. Those shards are still just as sharp and will become flying projectiles which could cause further injury to Interlopers.
Alternatively, a way to battle back these ice creatures would be through the use of flame. Fire, torches, Interlopers with the Lightbringer Feat would prove vital in getting rid of these creatures long enough to get to safety.
Fleeing is also an option. The creatures will attempt to chase for a time, but will soon give up and end up returning to the snow once more.
FROZEN HEARTS
WHEN: The Month of February, into March.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural ailments; body horror; characters turning to ice; potential character death.
The cold is a persistent thing in the Northern Territories. Even during the summer months, it doesn’t seem to get warm all that much. But the winter is a different kind of beast, and the cold seems to sink into your very bones.
It starts with a kind of cold that you find it hard to get warm, no matter how long you spend by the fire. In time, it feels like that cold has started freezing your body up: your joints feel stiff and sore. Moving around is a chore, even for the simplest of tasks like walking or sitting down. In time, it gets into the smaller joints: fine motor skills become tricky. You drop things, fail to grip on to items, struggle to close your hands into fists. Even talking can be a bit of a struggle, like you’re slowly getting lockjaw.
With that, it’s not surprising that your mood will dip. Sour moods, and even icy manners aren't out of the ordinary. It’s easy to be miserable when you’re so damn cold and you’re struggling to move and speak. It is so easy to find yourself with lowered spirits, to be irritable and closed off from your fellow Interlopers.
It feels as if nothing might warm you, physically or emotionally.
You find yourself being cold towards others, even those you care about most, your closest companions in this world. You may snap at them, or continually brush them off. You find yourself with little patience for them, and are often unmoved by their attempts to bring you some good cheer.
And certainly, what isn’t out of the ordinary is the strange affliction that plagues your skin. It isn’t frostbite, that you know of. Your skin doesn’t turn red, then white then black. No, it turns blue, frosted with white. Your skin looks less like skin and more like stone….. Or, rather, ice.
It starts in the fingers and toes, and will slowly work its way up your limbs, working its way towards your center. Even your hair may start to freeze. As it progresses, you find it harder to move. In enough time, you may find yourself completely frozen on the spot, and in time, unable to even speak as the ice slowly encloses around you.
If something isn’t done quickly enough, you may find yourself completely turning to ice and being trapped as nothing more than a statue.
Hope isn’t lost, though. They say in stories there’s such things that might save some terrible affliction such as this: An act of true love.
This cold isn’t beaten back by flames, but a different kind of warmth.
But what is true love?
It might just be enough to reverse the effects and undo this terrible affliction before it’s too late, to let the ice slowly melt back again and restore you to what you once were.
FAQs
1. Arrival threads can be treated as game canon.
2. Items characters have brought from home can be found either strewn around them when they awaken, or in the community hall — as if someone left them out for them to collect. Methuselah will not know how they got there, and will be quite bemused by the happenings.
3. Reminder that all characters are now depowered upon arrival. They can choose not to notice it at first, or can immediately sense something is different about them.
4. If asked any personal questions, Methuselah will smile and say "Oh, you don't want to know about an old man like me. But I have lived all over in these parts for all my life." He will be more concerned with trying to help Newcomers, and is genuinely concerned for them and their well-being. Other Interlopers will say much of the same — there's little to know about him.
5. More information about Milton can be found here.
1. Digging in the snow where the creatures have returned will prove fruitless, Interlopers will not even find bones.
2. The creatures can spring on Interlopers in groups of up to three.
1. The notion of true love is open to interpretation. Platonic love, familial love, romantic love could be deemed as acts of true love. Perhaps even the genuine compassion of a fellow Interloper could be seen as true love.
2. An act of showing true love is very flexible! It could be a kiss, a hug, shedding tears for the afflicted, some desperate attempt of helping the afflicted from freezing. Players are encouraged to play around with what this might entail!
Lottie Matthews | Yellowjackets
I. ARRIVAL
[Lottie had been not been fairing well, before this very moment. It was of her own design — she had asked Shauna to give in to her grief and pain, to unleash her fists and anguish on Lottie's own body. She had clutched her hands behind her back, had resisted the natural urge to protect herself as her friend's fists and feet launched an assault on her. It was for the good of the group; it was to protect her people; it was something that would appease the hungry emotions that coiled up in the forest, where the wilderness cried out for blood in return for healing. In this case, her blood.
The days had been a blur after that. Her face had swelled up, and her body gasped and sputtered and suffered through the beating. Flickers of memory had come and gone: Misty, perching her upright, coaxing her to try to eat or relieve herself or let her inspect the seeable wounds on her face. Sometimes, she would fall asleep and not exactly know if she would make it through. Maybe this would be it: the moment the forest would take her spirit, that she would nurture her hungry friends with her own body while the wilderness finally welcomed her into its embrace.
Maybe then the visions would end. The fear that came with the darkest ones. Maybe she would be rewarded for her dedication and patience. Maybe... maybe...
Then she woke up, crumpled in the snow outside, shivering violently with the chill of the white carpet beneath her. Rolling over and standing was not easy, but she felt some instinctive swell of strength that only the human body's stubborn will to survive gives out. Something's wrong, she thinks. Something is missing. Despite standing in the very forest that was guiding her (she's sure of it, isn't she?), there's a thread so suddenly snapped inside her that it takes the breath that the cold air doesn't.]
Why...? Where are you...?
[Abandoned. In that moment, she realizes with startling clarity that the thing that had gripped her in the forest was no where in her presence. She begins to limp in a direction, any direction, because nothing looks familiar anymore.]
Natalie...?! M... Misty?!
[She keeps walking, hoping to find some missing piece inside her. The longer she walks, the more panic wedges in her bruised chest. The girl is a rough sight to those who may run into her.]
II. METHUSELAH'S FEAST
[She eats like a rabid animal who had been hunting for weeks without prey. The shellshock hasn't quite worn off from her, but she doesn't need to process the situation to feel her starved body move for her: she grabs plates, pulls them close and starts eating urgently with her fingers.
Meats, soups, anything — they burn her mouth and she hardly flinches. So hungry — so hungry, and the food is delicious, it's seasoned and prepared with humanity. She's a skinny thing in a dirty dress, and looks rightfully embarrassed when someone else catches her eye mid-bite.
What does she even look like, to someone who wasn't among the Yellowjackets?
Or maybe... maybe there's something about this place that feels cursed, too.
She's not really sure. Actually, she thinks maybe she's hallucinating again. It wouldn't be the first time, would it? Laura Lee might spring up at any time, telling her to get up, to hurry back to the cabin before she freezes out in the cold...]
III. WILDCARD
[If you've got a starter or plot idea in mind, feel free to hit me up via PM or reach out to me at my plurk,
arrival
He's got the benefit of a jacket, but the chill has eaten right through straight to the bone and his hair has gone from salt and pepper to almost entirely white from the falling snow.
He can hear something on the wind, but the howl from the weather and the view ahead is obscured in the storm until all he can make out is the color of her hair and the vague shape of another person moving in his direction.
Joel stops, hand moving to the strap on his firearm, but as the form manages a stronger shape he realizes with some dismay that it's a kid, a teenage girl, and she looks beat to hell. His arm drops from the rifle but he stands firm where he is. ]
You need to calm down, ramping up your heart rate is just gonna make you go hypothermic faster. Or hyperventilate and pass out.
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Is he a mirage? An illusion gifted by the wilderness?
Or maybe someone to usher her to the afterlife, if none of this is real.
Get it together, Lottie, she would have thought — eight months ago.
Her voice trembles from cold, but she has to ask:]
Are y-you real?
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This place really did seem to take all kinds. ]
Unfortunately for both of us, yeah, I am.
[ Which meant they were stuck in this together. Joel sighs and shifts forward through the wilderness with the snow fighting him through every move. ]
There should be a smoke stack somewhere, if visibility ever comes back, in the meantime we should find some kind of offshoot to wait out the wind, trees, rock, doesn't matter. Little of both and I can work on getting us a fire of our own.
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Focusing. Right.
She nods, looking around the snowy expanse. Her lower side aches, and she pushes her fist into it in a failed attempt to magically change that. She regrets that she doesn't have her knife on her right now — and isn't that strange? They'd all hoped to see someone in the forest, because it had once meant they'd be taken home. Now, she can't help but be on edge.
When she tries to listen to the wild, the wild does not speak back.
Not like it used to.]
Umm, I — the tree line. Is closest.
[She moves to start walking, stumbles, and sinks hard into the snow again. Misty and Mari had been picking her up to help her move, and despite her miraculously improved health, she still feels like a calf in the snow.]
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ii, methuselah's feast, let's go team cannibalism!!!
He's looking around, taking in the new arrivals, when his eyes linger on Lottie for a moment. And ah. He knows that behavior. That's someone who eats because they're hungry, someone who hasn't had a proper meal in a while and is taking advantage of what they can get. He's seen that sort of eating before. He's done that eating before. Wherever this girl was before here, it was undoubtedly worse.
Hickey frowns for a moment, mulling things over, before him and his plate go to sit down next to Lottie. Without any hesitation, Hickey picks up some of the grilled rabbit from his plate and puts it on hers. ]
Eat up. You'll need to recover your strength. We've got a moment of respite now, but it won't last as long as you'll like.
sometimes you just gotta bond over poor diets
It was, wasn't it? The wilderness asked her to shed her skin and transform, in its own way. Didn't it...? She rubs her forehead, the ache in her temples cutting through the succulent taste of cooked animal. There is a man sitting next to her, not the coach, not Javi or Travis. He is not from her woods. She knows that much. But everything she's heard in passing...
She chews quietly for a moment, then admits:]
I can't hear it anymore. The wilderness... It's been so quiet.
[Is that something a crazy person would say? What's crazy, anymore?]
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Give it a week. The wilderness will make itself known soon enough.
[ Or whatever monsters, gods, troublemakers that live in the wilderness will do just that. There's always something there. That bear, stalking them through the woods. The sea serpent at Lakeside. The Darkwalker itself. ]
It's quiet for a few days when we get arrivals like this. But once you're settled, things'll shift back to the way they should be.
[ As he talks, he picks up a piece of rabbit from his plate and tears off a bit to chew and swallow. But unlike Lottie, Hickey's using his fingers to eat. ]
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If everyone is, then nobody is, right?]
The forest here... What does it do? After the few days.
[Because so far, she's only gotten the impression that there are things within it that are not there to help, but to harm. The forest she'd been caged in by the misfortune of a downed plane has worked long and hard to stockholm/i> her into its loving embrace, because she can only imagine this new snowy expanse as its unkind foil.]
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arrival.
Hey! [Six feet of lanky teenager bustle down the short hill at Lottie, like an eager rescue dog getting to perform its duties. Before he can even make out her face, he's reaching into his bag to yank out the beginning of a shabby, knitted blanket.] Alright, there?
[Well, obviously not, especially as her face comes into view. Though he remains almost unbearably upbeat, he can't help wincing a bit as he tugs the rest of the blanket free.]
Bloody hell. I'd hate to see the other guy.
[The whole thing takes about fifteen seconds, from Lottie desperately wandering in the woods to a strange teenage boy offering her a blanket that looks like it was crocheted by his gran. He keeps a polite distance, but moves to toss the thing around her shoulders, if she's amenable.]
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So says the 'crazy' one.
It's almost enough to make her smile, even when her body is angrily reminding her what she'd allowed to happen to it. She pulls the blanket closer around her to join at least three other layers of clothing, shivering but experienced with the eternal chill of a wilderness winter. If she had been anything like the person she was before the crash, she'd be embarrassed at how dirty and disheveled she is in front of a boy her age.]
The other girl, actually.
It's — complicated. But I'll be fine.
[More importantly, through chattering teeth:]
I-is this really a town? Is this real?
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Don't know how many people you need for a town, [he answers, still calculatingly jovial.] It's at least a village, though. Got a little shop and everything.
[He doesn't push on her explanation for the injuries. Lord knows he was pestered about enough back in his time, with causes he'd rather not speak on.]
And if it's not real, I don't like to think what that says about my last six months.
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[No, it had been longer than six months, even. Sometimes it feels like a flash since the crash, and sometimes it feels like the forest was all she'd ever known. Stupid, right? And yet -- it always felt like something was bound to happen, something that would take her away from a mother who was nervous about her baby girl's mind, and a father who only fathered through stacks of money. Was she were she was meant to be, in the wild? Or is that just what she had told herself -- or what the forest told her?
She isn't sure of a lot of things, not anymore.
What she does know is that these are the first people she's ever seen outside of their group.]
Have -- you seen any of my friends? They were stranded like me, too. In the forest... We had crashed our plane. There's Natalie, and Shauna, and Taissa -- Misty and Van. And others. The Yellowjackets.
arrival
The bitter, biting cold soaks Furiosa down to her bones. She wraps her arms over herself, her clothes offering pathetically little protection against the cold. Furiosa is built to survive, but she isn't really equipped for this. Her teeth chatter loudly, her legs are sluggish, numbness seeping deeper into the layers of her thighs as she slows.
Through the howling, whistling wind she hears a voice cry out. Furiosa tracks it, wary that it might be a trap, but she nearly gasps when coming upon a familiar silhouette and with an unmistakable voice ringing clearly in need of help. ]
Cheedo?! Stay there! I'm coming.
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Cheetos?
Oh, to daydream about snack foods. Chinese food. An enchilada covered in sour cream... They had stopped having those talks early into the winter. It wasn't worth it on an empty stomach.]
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Can you walk?
[ Furiosa probably shouldn't tempt fate and carry anyone right now, but she always will do the hard thing if needed. ]
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methuselah's feast
But he still gets tired, still needs to rest. All that hiking does wear him down eventually, and he tries to be mindful of himself. He'll need to eat again soon, he'll do that when he's home again. He'll stay for a while, check in on others—
He spots her wolf down as much as she can, and it makes him pause — the embarrassed look when he catches her eye. Kieren feels his own embarrassment prickling as his head ducks, letting a beat or two pass before he carefully heads over. ]
It's okay. It's not going anywhere. [ His smile is quiet, sympathetic — keeps his voice low. Like trying to assure a wild animal rather than scold. ]
You're okay. Just don't make yourself sick eating so quick, yeah?
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It could, though... Go somewhere.
[She's not confident about food until she's back home and there's a McDonalds on every street corner again. There is some part of her that has a wealth of hope, that they can get through the winter and survive no matter what -- but there is another part of her that wonders if they simply belonged to the wilderness now.
This, though. This is not the wilderness she's shaken hands with.
This is different, because she can't feel it here. Not yet, anyway. For some reason, the distant echo of Interloper still rattles around in her mind. From just before she'd woken up...]
But... it would suck to throw up right about now.
[Her ribs are still tender from where they're bruised up, and while the infection that had burned through her before was gone now, she was still a mess who couldn't really afford the extra suffering of upchucking on the floor in here. Also, that's just bad manners to the people hosting a feast. So instead, the skinny thing leans back and turns toward Kieren. She's probably not the prettiest sight in the world, but she's too tired to worry about looking like a hot mess in front of a boy.]
I'm Lottie.
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... Yeah, it might. [ He tries to be as gentle as he can with that, his gaze lowing and he fiddles with the fabric of his hoodie with a gloved hand for a few moments. ] But— people help each other out. They hunt and stuff. I've been here for over a year now.
[ He looks up with a wry smile. Not dead yet. Again. But that part he leaves unsaid. ]
Kieren. [ There's a little pause, and he moves to sit down so he's not just towering over her. ] And— I don't think you'd be the first. To throw up, I mean. Probably best not to add to the list, though.
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Feast
She quickly rushes over to where the food is being served and stocks up as a big of a plate as she can. Then she plops herself down at the table across from Lottie and proceeds to stuff her face just ravenously as the other girl. Making sure to make a mess of equal amount as she goes.
Look. People had to stick together here.]
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Lottie stares with her mouth parted in dumbfounded surprise for a moment. Thankfully, she's quick to get the gist of what's going on here, and she turns back to her own food and starts shoveling more into her hungry mouth. It's a funny scene, then: two girls pigging out, looking like they just crawled out of a cave for the first time to hunt.
It's only when her stomach feels too round to continue that she finally puts her hands down and leans back in her chair. A groan at the ceiling follows.]
God... I think I'm going to pop.
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It makes her feel a lot better to have a moment where she can let loose with that, especially to make someone else feel a little less uneasy about it. It's the kind of fun this place sorely needed at times.
It's around the same time that Lottie taps out that she feels the need to put down her own food.
She shifts back and forth awkwardly but she's probably not moving anytime soon.]
Just give me five coach, you put me back in the game...
[No. She was toast.]
ii
It makes the ones who do eat like that stand out. Especially since he also remembers being like that. It feels like a long, long time ago now - Christ, has it already been a year? - but he remembers feeling like he was starving, he remembers seeing this food and not believing it was real.
But when he's caught staring, the girl doesn't look judgmental. If anything she looks.. surprised? Startled? Kind of embarrassed, he thinks.
Billy is quiet for a moment, but then he voices: ]
You look as if you have seen a ghost.
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... If food could be a ghost.
[And it can be. It is. She feels like it's a specter, and if she blinks it'll be gone. She slows herself down, though, once she realizes she's clearly causing a small scene for herself. And it's, like, bad to eat fast. That's one thing they definitely learned after the few times the wilderness had fed them. Food can make you sick, because your body forgets what it's there to do for you. Nourishment can't all happen at once.]
Just really happy to see it. Is all.
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There usually is not this much food around here. Though we have enough to eat, getting food has been.. [ He slows down for a moment, carefully picking his words. ] .. complicated at times. You might want to see which of the food here is relatively preservable, and take some of that with you to where you're going to be staying in this place. Just in case.