Well, yes, that might'a been part of it, but hell if he'd admit it.

"It's natural flavorin'," he insisted. "The bag didn't exactly come wit-"

He broke off, turning suddenly as he abruptly remembered the silver can. Supplies.

It had rolled when he'd dropped it, the shining parachute caught now in the lazy tide of the stream. He jogged over and scooped it up before it decided to go for a swim.

"Somebody sent me somethin'," he told Neeshka, by way of explanation, as he dumped out the parachute and shook off the canister.