Basil sighed in relief once he reached them, and grabbed the small coin purse that he kept on him. He then said, "Please tell me that you have Rad-Away and Med-X." He knew that even if he were to have the Rad-Away, it would take time for Jace to recover; Med-X would alleviate the pain of the process, as well as make it quicker. Rad-Away came first, of course, but he could hope. His thoughts wandered to last night. What would have happened if Jace had refused his offer for the Rad-Away? Would he have even made it this far, or did it not really help any, like he'd claimed it wouldn't?
He swore under his breath as he counted out the money. "Look, I don't have enough caps for the usual prices, but I'm sure we have something that you'd want. We...scavenge. In Vaults and whatnot, so we have stuff that'd sell for plenty, especially to the right person." He closed his eyes briefly as a wave of dizziness washed over him; perhaps he was becoming affected by the heat, the exertion of their journey, the radiation. But Jace was worse for wear, so he pushed it to the back of his mind. He then focused hopefully on the trader woman, completely ignoring the threatening presence on the other side of their loaded Brahmin.
"What someone like you doing exploring Vaults?" Leith asked. He eyed him up-and-down, not even caring. The kid didn't look like much, and he'd heard the horror stories of those places--well, more than just heard of them. He didn't go near them. He folded his arms over his chest, blue eyes narrowed.
"Research," Basil answered reluctantly. He shook his head, instantly regretting the movement as a spike of pain shoved itself through his skull. "Please, just...he won't make it for much longer, and we're too far away from the next settlement for him to make it. If they even have a doctor there. I haven't tried to mug or kill you yet, have I?"
Leith huffed. "Whatever. Kaye, decision's yours." He waved a dismissive hand, but kept his eyes glued onto the stranger. He hated these caravan jobs. Made him paranoid as hell. Sometimes, though, it was the only way someone like him could scrape by. He had to pay for his cigarettes somehow, after all.