"I'm Larkin," he says, looking around. "There's... well, at least there's tools here. Enough to make some sort of shelter, probably."

He unslings his long-las and leans it against a tree, picking up an axe. It's not the best axe he's ever seen, but it's not unusable. Faint blessings, given the weird Blank Men hanging around, but he'll take what he can get.