He crouches on the ground then, glancing out towards the beach. "Bet shakujou could help us rope some in. Might bust up the meat though."

Gojyo would have killed a guy for a cigarette. It wasn't even just the nicotene. He craved having the thing dangling from his lips, for the feeling of stubbing one out in the sand.

"Mmn. Quieter. Smells less like asshole, though."