Observations in the wilderness

From distant mountains there came the cry of hungry birds. They had forgotten to bring a tin-opener with them, and only tinned foods of course. The cry bleated through the valleys the moment one of them had tried to open a tin of rice pudding by smashing it with a rock, missed, and hit her hand with a crunching blow. She reflexively lashed out with her arm, sending the silly cow crouching next to her tumbling down an incline. The third bird shook her head. She was no better for her aloof posture but keen to take on an air of detachment, both for the relief it offered from her current diabolical situation and the feeling of superiority it gave her, despite having made no attempt to improve the situation herself.

Kenneth watched these tumultuous scenes through his high-powered ultra-light binoculars, which he had ordered for the trip from a specialist website. Not that sort of website, no, I mean a website selling military surplus equipment and hunting gear. He had also bought special buoyant boots that could be used as a life-raft in an emergency and an edible tent. So far, he had only deployed the binoculars, but they were already paying for themselves in terms of sheer entertainment. What he wasn't considering, as he laughed at the foolishly unprepared trio, was where his own food supply was coming from. As the first raindrops of an entire night's torrential downpour began to fall, it was only a few hours before his other equipment would come into play. The boots in time, but first the pivotal choice: food or shelter?