"You're doing good enough with the salvaging," Daryl said, eyebrows raising while he stood. He backed off from James and motioned at the torn out seats, the panel of the hull that wasn't quite fully torn from it's supports. "I know a lot of tough sonsabitches that can't do all that by themselves. But if you're offering to cook, I ain't gonna say no."

And there might have been something akin to a smile on his lips at that.