Jonah looked over the crowd that approached, his eyes taking in a myriad of details. There was the cold, calculating bit that assessed the threat they might pose: analyzing the weapons they bore and their overall demeanor. Attacks by looters and bandits on military & civilian installations alike were far from unheard of on this side of the Rockies, after all. It wasn't hard to imagine that this group might be less than pleased at their situation and looking to improve it by any means necessary. However, he also took note of how healthy they seemed: any sign of malnutrition or disease, for instance, or the state of their clothing. They didn't seem to be on death's door, but more than a few of them were worse for wear.
As the older man stepped forward to speak, Jonah felt a pang of sympathy. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "We're not a relief convoy. We're on a critical mission. I'd like to help you if we can, but our own supplies are also limited."
As the older man stepped forward to speak, Jonah felt a pang of sympathy. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "We're not a relief convoy. We're on a critical mission. I'd like to help you if we can, but our own supplies are also limited."
NanLia