The screwdriver rose from the table and drifted across the workshop, landing neatly in DG's outstretched hand. She didn't have to look up from the machine that she was working on.
It was an air filter. She hoped that she'd never have to use it, but she'd learned that it was better to be safe than sorry in Taxon. She wanted to make sure that they had plenty of supplies and plenty of options if things went wrong again. (She remembered the city they'd found after their trek through the tunnels. The empty buildings and the bodies stacked in the streets surfaced in her dreams from time to time, whether she wanted them to not. Prophecy or memory, she didn't intended to take any risks.)
As she worked, DG hummed softly to herself, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
[Location: the Workshop]
It was an air filter. She hoped that she'd never have to use it, but she'd learned that it was better to be safe than sorry in Taxon. She wanted to make sure that they had plenty of supplies and plenty of options if things went wrong again. (She remembered the city they'd found after their trek through the tunnels. The empty buildings and the bodies stacked in the streets surfaced in her dreams from time to time, whether she wanted them to not. Prophecy or memory, she didn't intended to take any risks.)
As she worked, DG hummed softly to herself, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.