The grin lingers on Mark's lips as he steps inside the hut, not even noticing the surroundings for a while for the way his eyes skirt around and look for a place to set his food down, the burger that he's brought from the restaurant because it's a burger— you don't waste a burger, they keep well. But inevitably, the first couple of seconds leave him unsure which places are safe to set said burger down (for all he knows, maybe Eduardo won't want food in the hut at all, because Mark imagines that none of the buildings here are quite as effective at keeping out pests), and so he looks up and catches the sight of the hut in full. It's... an island hut.

Not the most glamorous of residences, but it's an island hut. It'll do. Mark can't imagine that he'll end up staying in one of these for long (he hopes that they have something on the island made of concrete or cinder block and open for residence), but to back out now is just unnecessary. He's tired, Eduardo's probably tired, and as Mark's always said, all he needs then is a patch of floor to sleep on.

"It works," he shrugs, before stepping further inside.