There's a second or two of blinking at the mice pyramid, as Russell was - to his own regret - perfectly ready to work with the conspiracy theories he tossed out. They're nothing he hasn't heard before, albeit with fewer giant mice or aliens with miniature shower sharks. But he can't fathom what a pyramid has to do with sharks.

"Right, sounds good. Stop, eat something, get our wits about us." He nods, pulls his own bag off his shoulders and opens the section he'd filled with some foodstuffs. Protein bars, fiber bars, jerky, dried fruit. The sorts of things that wouldn't perish quickly.

"Sharks, huh. Sharks dangerous to the mice," Russell echoes as he starts laying his offerings on the ground for easy picking from. "He's not making a giant shark, is he?"