[Minimal surprise--Clayton supposes that's a good thing. He holds that look for a few moments before glancing away, shifting his attention to the pillowcase tied to the handle of his backpack.]
It ain't no trouble, really. It's alright. [Changing tacks now. Clayton's voice is soft, deliberate, like he's trying to sooth a wild animal. He holds out a ration in the palm of his hand.] I insist. Ain't like I'm runnin' short 'r nothin'.
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It ain't no trouble, really. It's alright. [Changing tacks now. Clayton's voice is soft, deliberate, like he's trying to sooth a wild animal. He holds out a ration in the palm of his hand.] I insist. Ain't like I'm runnin' short 'r nothin'.