Take half (+2 Food)

"Take half of it," Noah said finally. “Leave the rest.”

Greg raised an eyebrow. “Half? That’s not going to—"

“Just take half,” Noah insisted, his voice firm.

Greg shrugged, reaching into his pack and pulling out some of the items he’d taken. He set them on the counter, his gaze challenging. “Fine. Half it is. But when we run out of food and Olivia starts asking why, remember whose decision this was.”

“I will. Let’s go,” Noah said, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading for the door.

Greg followed, pausing to glance back at the supplies they were leaving behind. He shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Soft. Too soft.”

Noah pushed the door open, stepping out into the cold air.

[+2 Food]