When the bounty hunters finally broke for camp, none of them was particularly thrilled. Between the bear and temporarily losing the trail and the whole weirdness with the (possible) healing ritual, the day had been stressful without accomplishing anything, the absolute worst kind of day. Bitterroot, at least, was looking forward to just plain eating and sleeping. She travelled light through the back of beyond, but she kept a few indulgences. One of them she brought out once camp had been set up, pawing through her saddlebags until she found a tin. She opened it and offered some of the contents to Trace.