The particularly strange stranger here smelled heavily of two things, slightly contradictory in nature: salty air and charcoal. It was as if some daring soul attempting to cross the ocean had attempted to light a fire to keep warm on their ship. Suffice to say, it was fairly fitting that Sabo should have the scent of a disaster.
At first, he drew back very slightly when Laura shifted into defense mode. He regretted startling her, and held up his hands peacefully. "Whoa, it's okay, I just..." And then he trailed off, watching her as she audaciously gulped down another bite. Like a little piranha, with the same single-minded intent. Pairing that with the neglecting look she cast off into the distance, Sabo watched her for only a moment before he erupted with warm, infectious laughter.
Slowly, his hands still slightly raised, he lowered himself to the ground and sat next to her, careful not to block the view in front of her she was so intently staring out at. He still wore a soft grin on his lips, and his features were gentle, save for the old wound along the left side of his face.
"Hey. Are you okay?" he asked, just as he reached into one of his coat pockets, pulled out another piece of the same fruit, and held it out to her.