Mia fretted as she made it back to camp, waking Grandpa and sending him to investigate the conversation between Ford and her father.
The old man yawned and scratched his ribs, seemingly unhurried despite Mia's visible worry over the situation.
"Please hurry," She urged as he pulled on his boots one after the other at a leisurely pace.
"You can't hurry old men, Mia," Grandpa told her. "It never winds up well."
"Grandpa," She said tightly. "Please."
"They're fine," He waved one hand dismissively, "but I'll go check on them just because you're worried about Ford."
He had the audacity to wink at her, and her face flamed.
"Remember that time Grandma threatened to burn your breakfast if you didn't get the henhouse cleaned out?" She frowned at him. "Maybe I'll learn something from that."
Grandpa fixed her with an even stare. "Don't ever hold my food hostage, Mia. It won't turn out for any of us."
