Oliver/Tommy
The moment they were out of the vehicle at the camp, Oliver grabbed his backpack and went to Tommy's side. Dropping the bag on the ground, he opened it up and pulled out the rolled camos. "Get your camouflage on, now," he ordered quietly. Not that they hadn't made a ruckus in their arrival, but they were in a jungle, had seen a dinosaur already, and he wasn't taking any chances. Not with Tommy.
Oliver stripped right in the open, exchanging what he'd been wearing for their morning run for the camouflage. Their smell wouldn't be hidden, but those that hunted by site would have a harder time of it. This was a completely different arena than the island - his enemies had been human - but some tactics were the same.
He re-holstered his sidearm, assembled his rifle, and fetched his bow and quiver from the trunk. The backpack went on his back and, kitted like for survival training, he surveyed the perimeter and the air, keeping Tommy between himself and the vehicle.