[Yeah, only a real chef would be that happy with a dumb jar of flour. Good for her, though... it's nice to see that there are some people around here with useful skills. Especially if, as she seems to be implying, they're going to be stranded on this island for a long haul.]

[Ichimatsu doesn't really want to think about that. He grunts noncommittally, rearranging his cut of the supplies around in his pockets until they stop bulging like a lumpy mess. Getting to his feet, Ichimatsu glances down the beachline with a soft, contemplative noise that might be agreement.]

Yeah. Good luck never lasts. You can count on that.

[... still, meeting her was pretty lucky, he supposes. He got a knife and some food out of it. And she seems like a reliable person to know. Ichimatsu turns on his heel with a slight wave.]

Anyway, I'm done here, so I'm gonna leave. See you around.

Ah, and thanks.