So, the sketchy canned food that had been in the shack since long before he'd arrived maybe hadn't been worth the risk.
In his defense, he was literally starving, it had smelled fine when he cracked the unlabeled can open to discover a serving of corn inside, and it hadn't looked off when he'd poked around in search of potential mold.
Now his guts are churning under his palm and back to their angry growling, and he knows the canned corn will be making its reappearance sooner or later. It's only a matter of time before he's forced to give up his spot on the couch where he's curled protectively around his aching stomach in search of any bit of relief.