Isaac minds his own business a moment longer, uninterested in watching lovers fuss over one another and inevitably feeling like someone pressing his face to a window to see how warm it is inside. He’s doubtful that he’s honestly being invited and drawn into the conversation by way of ‘you two’, and is similarly under no illusion that courtesy extended to him here is more than an act. A human simply doesn’t go from spitting indignation on a battlefield to sympathy when, from what he knows and has heard, there wasn't much of the latter to begin with.

Even so, Isaac decides he can play the game of politesse just as well. "We are doing swimmingly," He lilts from across the room, despite Zevran having already addressed the question. Perhaps he hadn’t trusted him to keep from rocking an already dangerously unsteady boat. He couldn’t blame him for that. “…all things considered.”

Unable to see much of the bag or its contents he makes a point of craning his neck, brows lifting slightly.

“Is that an apple?”