Deacon has his own vehicular problems right now, but it hasn't stopped him from scoping out the rest of the convoy and becoming rather intruiged with the horned individual currently puzzled by their jeep. People of all kinds, he supposes. Given the world he comes from, he's fairly unfazed.

"Depends on who you're talking to." he answers, even though he's certain it wasn't to him. He's just nosey like that. Spy-like instincts, and all.

"Where I'm from? That thing would probably get scrapped for parts. You'd probably get a lot of caps for it, too. Here, I'm willing to bet it's more valuable in one piece." he shrugs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans.

"Unless of course you were asking about me, and then I'd tell you that most of the people I meet don't know what to do with me, so at least you're not alone."