Burly very gently pats Avery's shoulder, picks up a meat pie in his hand (the sort that is solid and dense and best enjoyed cold, with flaky pastry) and carefully wraps it up in cloth, before holding it out to her. The pie looks very small in the hands of a man of Burly's proportions. He tilts his head very slightly, eyebrows raised, a silent take this?

Avery is feisty, but everyone needs helps keeping their strength up, and she's been through a lot. He is glad to see one of his friends is still strong, though, still well. She need not eat it now - just have it with her for if she gets hungry.

As for the comment about dying, his shoulders rise and fall in a brief, silent laugh. With one hand Burly reaches into the wagon, and raises a great hammer, to be wielded with both hands, and nods to her. I'll be fine.

Burly looks to the others as well, and tilts his head towards little parcels on the back of the wagon. Provisions to take, easily carried things, and the side of his mouth tugs with silent concern. Food for their missing, simple things to be kind on the stomach; whether they leave them here or take them along is up to them.