"What am I, your personal chef?" Kakashi replied dryly, but he hooked a hand into one of his belt-pouches and dug through until he pulled out a little white sachet. It wasn't technically salt, but the dried sodium-sucrose-electrolyte mix used normally for making energy drinks was close enough. He tossed it at Genma, along with a collapsible bowl filled with sticky rice, and jerked a thumb at the right-hand skewer.

"That one's yours. Don't touch mine while I'm gone."

Genma's eyebrows lifted, then he made a little 'ah' sound of understanding when Kakashi ducked back into the tent for the personal-amenities part of his pack, before heading out of camp. It only took a minute to find a suitable tree out of earshot. Kakashi studied it intensely at eye-height for a focused, bladder-relieving moment, then went down to the river to wash his face in freezing water and brush his teeth.

Feeling decidedly lighter, cleaner, and minty-fresh, he returned to camp and found Genma making ferocious headway into his quail. The bird was almost half-gone already.

Cautious hope flickered in Kakashi's stomach. Hunger was always, always a good sign.

"Do table manners come standard with seduction-training?" he inquired, almost reflexively, with an ironic nod at Genma's greasy fingers as he sat down by the fire again. It was gloriously warm. "Or did you just forget to pay attention?"