"Oh - yes, I suppose," says Aziraphale, looking at the ocean dubiously and with the air of if we must. He pauses, looking this way and that, trying to pick out a direction to search in, and Orisa sighs and slithers down from him to the ground.

"Where are you going," he says, only mildly affronted by the abandonment, and she replies, "I'm faster than you," before slithering off into the brush.

Aziraphale stares at the bushes before, eventually, feeling a slight tug under his sternum, and he settles into an awkward pursuit. It doesn't last long, because very shortly Orisa calls, "Look what I found!" and he follows her voice to find her curled smugly around a miniature fridge.

"What," Aziraphale says flatly, looking at the thing. "That doesn't belong here."

"It's working," hums Orisa.

"How?" Aziraphale crouches down and opens it up irritably, indeed feeling a blast of impossible cold air upon opening it, and seeing-

"Hot dogs." He looks back at Peeta, completely at a loss.

"Everyone knows grillable meats don't grow on trees," says Orisa.