He doesn't carry much more than the cards if he can help it: a lighter, a photo, certain vials of certain possible persons' possible blood, stolen from a bullshit wall of samples. If there's someone to foist the pack on, he will; if there isn't, well, better if everyone underestimates him for as long as possible.

"A firestarting kit, for one." He stares at Ty from under raised brows, nodding at the chairs around the dining table. They'll break down easy, and should be easiest to replace if someone moves in.

Which is a distraction within the distraction of the question, taken up in both hands. Doing something is really the only way to clear his head, and if Ty drags the moment long enough, he might take the ax back and try it himself. For now, he pulls Tony's little case from the bag and sets it on the stove, opening it to remove a wax and tinder pellet. Underneath it, he finds a jar of goldbells, kept on hand after the incident with the snakes.

All they need's a kettle and some heat. "Get your shit together and I'll make some tea."