Wash has definitely spent those few minutes sitting on the other side of one of the larger rocks. Removing splinters without the proper tools is a bitch, and just because he can heal doesn't mean he wants to have to cut himself open just to get wood out of his skin. He goes for the ounce of prevention rather than the pound of cure, pride be damned.

"Right." He sets about building the fire. It's been a while since he's had to do anything close to this, and he pulls on very old memories to try to figure out what to do. The fire starter in the middle, smaller pieces of wood and twigs built up in a loose pyramid around it, and four of the larger logs in a pyramid above that. It's a moment or two before the fire starter catches, but then the fire climbs up the twigs and then the logs and they're in business. Wash sits back in satisfaction, grinning. He's prouder of himself than he probably should be, but fuck it, that's a nice fire and they're going to have a hot breakfast with the first meat he's had in months. He's allowed to be happy, dammit.