[At first, it isn't quite sure if this is all intentional or not. Then, after the image rights itself, still off-kilter from a chair across the room, it is rather obvious that it isn't. Especially from the flash of dark-green in the edge; Shino's outer jacket.
When the boy himself crosses the room, he's still in a long sleeve shirt, setting a plastic container (makeshift-- the strap was jimmy-rigged to it) amongst a small grouping of papers. Supplies, jars, whatever he's managed to cultivate around him.
Not that it's obvious he was nearly throttled by killer vines or anything.
Shino's back is to the device, and he hums. A simple, singular thing.
In the container? You guessed it.
Insects. Which he is starting to removed with great, painstaking care, and separating into various other put-together habitats. He pauses with a particularly
an interesting spider, letting it rest across the back of his hand as he examines it. It appears to have a bit of an oddity going on with one of its legs.
Shino arches a brow faintly at it.]
Hmn... You as well, then? Suppose it cannot be helped.
[The last thing he does before the feed times out is set the spider in the window to make a residency of it.]