#vault119s

"Me...?" Nick looks down at his companion with a furrowed brow and what might've been the beginning of a smile-- it was a personal question, but definitely an amusing one.

"Well, I've got a steel skeleton, reinforced internal shielding, and some other heavy machinery in there... so yeah, I'd say I'm pretty heavy. Don't tell my dietician, though."

Sneaking wasn't something really possible in power armor, sure Allister had modified it quite a bit over the years but it was nowhere near silent, just not 'train on china plates' loud when needed. Still, when he picked up the audio of sobbing, water and scrubbing a handful of things came to mind of what it could be with most being bad, so he had to investigate. He crept up about as quietly as he could manage, hoping their focus was elsewhere to not hear him, until finally coming into view a bit behind the person leaning over a barrel.

"Yeah... couldn't have worded it better myself."

Well, he probably could, but it looked like the Vault-dweller couldn't really take too many more blows, even if they were to the ego.

Ignorance out in the Wasteland was a liability, and picking up a Vaultie would certainly be seen as such-- but to Nick Valentine, a helping hand didn't wait for convenience. Besides, it wasn't like he needed to share rations when he didn't eat.

Nick stared at them from over the crackling fire set between them, his lantern-like eyes flickering in the flames. "But at least the stars are out tonight, huh?"