"Thanks for the food."
"It's not free."
Just those three words from Samson sapped away the smile from his face. Looking back up, it was impossible to tell if it was just his paranoia or reality; he swore that Samson's hand had gone closer to his sheathed blade, perched on his thigh.
"Excuse me?"
--Don't make me do this.
Ren asked with a slight chuckle, a part of him wanted to believe he misheard the man--or that he was at least joking around with him.
"We worked hard to gather that fruit; it ain't free, man."
"Yeah, I busted my ass getting that exact one! Took a whole lot outta' me."
Dendhrug chimed in with his raspy, deep voice that came through the visors of his metallic helmet. There was no doubt; as Ren moved his pupils side to side, the armor-clad half-giant had his hand rested against the hilt of his silver greatsword, Yoel had both hands covering the sheathed daggers on the sides of each of his thighs.
