Silence enveloped Teren in accompaniment to his stoical expression. He suspected at the very least that Rose’s dad would have known more than enough, but as a religiously private person, anyone knowing beyond that ruffled his feathers. Although he wondered what kind of person wouldn’t be bothered to have their dirty laundry aired out in any capacity. His blue eyes made a sweep in the direction Reagan was in, his stare just as empty on the man before it swiveled back to Rose. The girl he was watching digress information to him seemed far too fear-ruled of a person to have a large grasp on anything involving his past, otherwise, he suspected she might have treaded on eggshells more than she had seemed to a bit since he had met her.

With the questions Rose spun back to him, Teren replied in a simple hum, as if the questions were worth thought he wasn’t privy to sharing with her. Which they weren’t. Instead, the young man silently watched Rose prepare the portions for the plates, memorizing the display and tucking it into his mental notes should the need to recall this information come later. If he could learn how to perform tasks completely on his own, then he would always try to. Dependence on anyone but himself disturbed him to the core. Maybe that’s why he felt like a tightly wound spring here - dependence on this place and Rose to be the redeeming grace he needed to leave. Any thought about what he would be doing after this place was non-existent though. It was easier not to face the future head-on for the time being though, especially when this ranch was enough to keep him more than occupied.

Teren was furthermore quiet during the process in which they began actually setting the table as he repeated the process of memorizing how to particularly do it. A few moments into the task and when he decided he had something worth saying out loud, his blue eyes flicked toward Rose. “Does everyone have to eat together at the table? I would rather take my plate outside or anywhere else and eat alone.” With no edge to his tone and something resembling casualty to his expression, Teren’s gaze turned back toward the table. The concept of eating with strangers at a table just felt unnecessarily painful and strange. As if eating at tables wasn’t weird enough for him. He hated when people attempted to make conversation because why would he want to talk when his task at hand would be eating? Like most things Teren did and preferred, solitude was a heavy factor.

“At worst, I imagine you’ll just have to eat with me if I am allowed to do it somewhere else, considering your adventures in babysitting likely only gets put on pause when it’s my bedtime,” Teren remarked dryly, pushing a heavy exhale through his nostrils. He wanted to smoke but he would attempt that in absolute solitude. It was easier to see if he could, and if not, for how long he could get away with it. It’s not technically a crime and he could play ignorant to whatever policies the ranch might have about it. Besides, it’s not like Teren would do it inside of any dwelling, he had that much regard for people around him. There was plenty of open-air around here anyway and plenty of space. The more he considered the ranch in that respect the more he could see its potential for pleasantry when it comes to late-night walks. He had only seen it in pictures, but from what he understood the night sky was much more remarkable without the influence of city lights and he did seek to enjoy that small thing if he could.