"Sounds like a plan." Wash gets to his feet and heads in the opposite direction from Nita, already searching a bit further up the shoreline. He's not terribly successful: he does manage to find a few sticks of driftwood, hopefully enough to build a small fire, and some tangled seaweed that had recently washed ashore. (He has some vague idea about wrapping the shark meat in seaweed to cook it; given that the memory is pre-Epsilon, it's fuzzy and vague and he's honestly not sure if it's a legitimate idea or something he got from a movie or TV at some point. Still, it might be worth trying.)

He heads back up the beach, following odd and vaguely worrying cracking sounds, to find Nita manhandling the biggest piece of driftwood he's ever seen, culminating in her breaking the log in half with seemingly no effort.

Uh.

He makes a concerted effort not to stare as he approaches the relocated campsite and sets down his comparatively pitiful findings. Nita, he's starting to realize, is weird even by crazy future standards and is definitely going to take some getting used to.