Grocery shopping wasn't exactly how Farren planned on spending her afternoon. No, her plans had consisted of melting into a puddle of uselessness in front of the television, most likely next to her youngest siblings. In her own way, Farren had missed them beyond belief, though she couldn't (and wouldn't) express that in any way that could have been construed as touchy feely. Oh no, she just didn't do sappy. Instead, she refused to let them out of her sight. Anytime one of them moved, she was on them, trying to figure out where it was they were going and what exactly they intended on doing once they got there. Someone had muttered something about her acting just like their mother and Farren snarled back an angry retort that caused her mother's eyebrows to arch something fierce. In that small little expression of her mother's, she knew that she was in trouble.
Hence why she was now shopping for groceries. She knew none of her other siblings would want to go with her (and why would they when they could be lazy at home?), so asking Sam had served multiple purposes. On the one hand, he could do the bulk of the work and keep her from being by herself at the store. And on the other, he really needed to get out of the house. Farren felt that the meek wolf needed to learn that in their pack, it was okay to be fiesty and stand up for himself. He'd already shown that he was capable of adapting -- playing video games helped pull him out of his shell some -- but after the full, Farren felt as though maybe he was still skittish around her and the rest of the pack.
When the cart jostled and some of the groceries shifted, she didn't even acknowledge it. Until he stuttered out an apology, that is. She glanced over her shoulder at him and then looked back at the shelf in front of her. She grabbed a box of crackers and tossed them unceremoniously into the cart, causing more of a mess inside than the little jostle had done. "Don't worry about it," she responded. The impatient part of her wanted to fuss at him, scold him for apologizing all of the time, but she knew that all she'd get in return was yet another 'sorry.'
"So what d'you like? Any snacks tickle your fancy?" She turned as she asked, walking backwards down the aisle with her sleeves rolled up and her hands shoved into the pocket of her jacket. "Being on food duty sucks, but it means you get to pick out some of the better stuff and hide it from the rest." Kidding of course, but only slightly.