Last Diner 4

~ start 6c4cc0e8-561e-423c-902a-ca9198290430
if is_quest_accepted
	if are_quest_requirements_met
		Narrator: *The camp has told its story. The lunchbox rides heavy in your pack, and Emma is a long walk south.* [#end]
	else
		Narrator: *The camp is as you left it. Except for one thing. The lunchbox sits on the flat stone, latched, waiting, exactly where you first found it.*
			*You carried it out of here. You know you did.*
		- Pick it up [#get_lost_quest_items]
			Narrator: *You take it again. The steel is cool, the latch holds, and the weight is the same as you remember. You decide not to think about the rest.* [#end]
else
	Narrator: *You go through the camp the way you'd want someone to go through yours. Careful. Nothing pocketed that doesn't need pocketing.*
		*His pack holds what you'd expect from a man on the move. Water, ammunition, a spare shirt. He wasn't starving. He wasn't desperate.*
	Narrator: *Beside him, open on a flat stone like a table set for one, a lunchbox. Old steel, pre-war, the kind kids carried. Half the meal inside is gone.*
		*The half that's left looks fine. Smells fine. That's the part that stays with you.*
	Narrator: *A man with food in his pack sat down to eat a meal he didn't carry in, in a camp nothing else has touched. Emma has been chasing a story about food that finds people on the road. She'll want to see what found him.*
	Narrator: [#quest_info=9d7efe10-2a1a-4bc9-9340-64a0a52e4957]
	if is_quest_accepted:
		Narrator: [quest: accepted] [#end]
			*You close the lunchbox and latch it. Whatever's in there, it rides outside your pack.*
	else:
		Narrator: [quest: declined] [#end]
			*You leave the camp as you found it. The desert can keep this one.*
=> END

~ start 81799b50-adf5-444f-9900-d4c081757a85
if is_quest_accepted and are_quest_requirements_met
	Emma: *She takes the lunchbox in both hands and sets it on her workbench. Opens it, looks a long moment, closes it. She doesn't touch what's inside.*
		You did right bringing this. And righter not tasting it.
	Emma: *She washes her hands in the basin, slow, though she touched nothing.*
		Nothing wrong with that food that I can see. Which means the wrong is in something I can't. That happens, out here. More than people want to hear.
	- What killed him?
		Emma: A meal he didn't choose. That's as far as I'll guess.
			He was tired, it was there, and he let the road decide his supper for him. My grandmother had a word for eating like that. She said the desert notices an open mouth.
	- And the diner?
		Emma: Still don't know. Maybe it feeds people. Maybe it feeds *on* the choosing.
			*She glances north, brief.*
			Three of mine ate there and walked away. He ate alone and didn't. The difference I keep coming back to: they told the cook what they wanted. He took what was given.
	Emma: So here's what I teach my people now, and what I'm teaching you. [#complete_quest]
		Before the fight, before the hunger gets loud enough to do your thinking, decide what you'll eat after. Name it. Carry it. When the dust settles, your body goes to what it knows.
		A chosen meal is a door you opened yourself. Everything else is a door something opened for you.
	Emma: *She pushes the lunchbox to the far edge of the bench, out of the light.* [#end]
		Eat what you choose. Never what chooses you.
		May your footsteps be light!
		(You can now set what your character eats after a fight - check the Tracking action)
else
	Emma: *She looks up from her herbs.* 
		You're carrying something heavy. Bring it here when you're ready.
=> END