Sean merely quirks an eyebrow at Sawyer's assessment of their mysterious benefactors, saying nothing. He's never gone so far out of his way to avoid pissing someone off, gods or otherwise, and while he's paid the price for it plenty of times as well, he doesn't see that changing any time soon. Let it never be said that he isn't a man of his convictions, no matter how occasionally asinine. The island remains nothing more than a cursed hunk of rock with the odd perk.

"Sounds like a fair trade t'me," he says simply, eying the pallet. "So how're we doin' this? Piecemeal?"