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Gretchen gave her empty lure a dejected sort of look before huffing out an exaggerated sigh and reaching for it so she could secure one of the hooks to one of loops on the rod. A few clicks of the reel, and everything was secure again. "If we were in Kansas we could go mushroom huntin', but I'm not real sure where we are. Best stick to the potatoes probably."

She gave the hand offered up to her a long look before just taking it so he could help her down. Help wasn't really needed, she was capable, but she appreciated it all the same. Especially from him.

"If I've got the choice, I'd rather start the fire." Pale features wrinkled at the comment, and she'd give his side a prod with her elbow as she slipped past him, taking his rod from his hand to free up his hands and securing it as well. It wasn't that she didn't know how to clean fish, she'd just never been especially comfortable with it. There was a difference between rendering one right out of the water, and cutting up chunks of pre-cleaned salmon from the grocery store.

Transferring both pools to the hand that was now covered in fish slime, she reached up with her other hand to cup his cheek, drawing him down so she could steal a kiss, murmuring against his lips. "You better not." It didn't sound like she was all too worried about it. He'd won, he deserved to gloat a bit.

Grinning, she ran her fingers through his beard. "You're too kind." This came out light, teasing, and she gave him another quick peck before letting her hand slip away with a certain measure of reluctance. "When you get back there'll be a fire ready and waitin'." This, at least, she could be confident about.

Tackle and rods were placed beside the flap of the tent, arranged carefully so they wouldn't trip over them, then she went looking for Isaac's pack and the matches that were tucked away inside it. She found them pretty quickly in one of the side pockets, then had to resist the temptation to keep looking. He'd said she could, but that just seemed a bit excessive for mild nosy curiosity. Besides, she had a fire to build.

When he returned to her he'd find her sitting cross-legged on the ground beside the ring of stones. A small, but well crafted fire was burning merrily in front of her, and she was tending to the cherry red coals that were beginning to form beneath the small pyramid of wood she'd erected when she'd started. It had burned down considerably, but that was idle for cooking. They could stir the coals back up after and add more wood to get it going again.

She looked up when she heard him, features lighting up in a delighted grin at the fish and fiddleheads he had in his hands. They were going to feast tonight!

A few more careful prods were delivered to the fire as she watched him go for his pack, digging around in the bigger pocket and finally producing cooking wear. "You sneak!" She scolded, laughing as the pan was set on the edge of the fire, fish placed inside. "Holding out on me." This was going to make it so much easier!

A second pan followed the first. Or rather, a pot, but still. She'd have sworn he hadn't been packing anything like that, despite having only been hunting about in the side pockets of his pack for matches. It didn't seem as if he could fit everything he needed, along with cooking equipment, in that bag, but apparently he was gifted bag packer. She gave him an impressed look as she wrapped her hand around the larger pan's handle, giving the fish a little shimmy to make sure they didn't stick.


When he sank down beside her she edged in close to his side, temple coming to rest against his arm as she started to hum softly.

She almost asked him if he had a spatula in that bag as well, but that would have required him to move, and Gretchen didn't want that. She was comfortable leaning against him, content. So she gave the fish in the pan a little shimmy, making sure they slid easily, then holding her breath, flicked her wrist to flip them in one easy motion. The grin that followed was very smug, and she set the pan on the edge of the fire again.

"Mm, lots of things," she admitted, hooking her arm around his. "This place reminds me a lot of somewhere my dad took me once. I was pretty little, I don't remember where exactly it was, just how peaceful and beautiful it was. How much fun I had on that trip."

Pale fingers stroked along his arm in slow strokes, the tips toying with the fine hairs. "I'm also thinkin' of how good our dinners gunna be." Even without spices it already smelled amazing. She gave the handle of the pan a wiggle.

And then she looked up at him, focusing those soft, honey browns on his dark eyes. "And what happens after dinner."

Well that had provoked more of a reaction than she'd been expecting.

She watched, amused, as he hastily produced a fork for them, drained the fiddleheads, and proceeded to finish off half his filet of fish in a single bite. It was impressive, to say the least, and she couldn't help laughing as he urged her to eat quickly.

But it wasn't as if he would have to ask her twice. Smirking up at him, she plucked the fork from his hand and speared herself a fiddlehead and a good sized chunk of fish.

It was every bit as delicious as she'd been expecting. Which just made it all th easier to eat quickly.