Water lapped at the side of the boats, rocking it gently as he sat with a fishing pole gripped firmly in his hands as he tried to get a bite. The sun beat down firmly on his face as sweat slipped down his forehead and he gnawed on his bottom lip. It'd been hours at this point and the fish had still denied to bite. He was only brought out of the sun drunk stupor by the sound of a call for help from the edge of the woods. He quickly reeled in the line and slipped the fishing pole back into the small boat and began rowing back to the shore as water droplets splashed up and landed on his face. Miller had sent him on the all important mission of picking up some fish in order to try and bring variety to the meals on Mother Base, though Snake guessed he wouldn't be coming back to base with anything you'd find on a pescetarian menu.

With a huff he pushed the boat onto the shore and glanced around the small plot of trees before spotting the form of someone with their leg caught in a bear trap, his eyes stuck on the whining and begging form as you begged for assistance. He would've done so immediately if not for the fuzzy ears on your head and the stubby tail among other things, though after a few seconds of shock, he moved forward and began applying pressure on the mechanisms in particular spots before yanking your leg out and tugging you back as the trap snapped shut around empty air. He huffed for a few seconds with you on his lap as he processed the ordeal. Eventually saying with an almost sarcastic tone: "So how're you?"