Sam passed the bottles down, swept the shelves for anything else that might be good. A few more jars of preserves, some dried strips of meat. The rest they could come back for tomorrow. He jumped down from the shelves, twisting to land silently on the ground.
"Feels a bit bad, stealing stuff, but they're not going to be coming back."
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"Feels a bit bad, stealing stuff, but they're not going to be coming back."