Wings make it easier to get to places otherwise a bit out of reach by usual methods, and while normally Donnie doesn't mind a swim, it's the wings that make it a bit of a problem. So he's opted for the high road. At a glance his silhouette might be easily mistaken for something more creature-like for how hunched over he is, wings poised almost flight-ready as he crouches on top of a boat, looking over what it might have before he drops in to start picking through things.

It seems he's more in the market for more standard items than machine parts at the moment, stacking a few seat cushions that don't seem moldy or torn up. There's some canvas and a few clothing items he figures he can piece together into something more serviceable. He uses some canvas for a makeshift sack.

If he's noticed Vincent's loner tendencies, Donnie doesn't seem to take it into consideration, although it's most likely he just really doesn't catch the social cues. He comes to set his things down on the bank beside Vincent's collection, pausing to rub at his lower legs with a wince.

"Hey, you see any paper of any sort?" he calls out to the other as he flexes his feet.