No one ever had to convince Aaron to give a hand in a shared community. He'd survived the apocalypse in one, he'd defended one more than once, hell, back home they were currently defending it again. Gathering and cultivating food was important for everyone and he wasn't afraid of lending a helping hand.

Aaron, though, was clad in warm but loose pants that afforded for ease of movement, what looked like hiking boots, and a slightly flannel looking shirt in blue plaid, sleeves rolled up and ready for work. He sat a basket at the base of one of the apple trees, being slightly over six feet tall giving him the ability to pick the low-hanging fruit without the need for a stool.

No one could avoid seeing Richard, though, and he smiled slightly as he watched the other man, clearly unaccustomed to manual labor, picking on the tree next to him.

"You're new to this whole orchard thing, aren't you?"