Well, Zia began with a laugh of her own, I ve never strung a bow before, but I m sure you ll pick it up pretty easy.
He was pretty good at learning weapons almost as soon as he picked them up, anyway, right? This shouldn t be too hard. The Singer hopped up onto a nearby crate and fiddled with a couple things on her instrument before patting the spot next to her.
Besides, we can always go get more in the wilds if it breaks, right? Oh! She had almost forgotten We need something to cut it with. Rucks told me we ve got pliers in one of these boxes somewhere, right?
Pliers! Right, okay! The Kid turned around and went back to the task of searching through the messy shelves. Pliers, pliierrrss he muttered, pushing aside the junk and digging through crates. Dammit I thought they were in this one no, wait, I swear I put them in here or, maybee the Kid trailed off as he continued to excavate through the disarray. Soon it seemed the only remnants of him among the mess was his mumbling.
Finally he jumped out of the mess, holding something in his hands. I didn t find pliers! he announced. But, you do you think this ll work instead? he held out Something Sharp. I use them on my machete, but it s really sharp so be careful. In fact, uh, here.
The set Something Sharp on the crate next to where Zia was sat, then pulled off his leather gloves. His hands were still those of a young man, still strong and resilient; yet they showed the unfair signs of an entire lifetime of work, callouses, cuts, burns, scars. He handed Zia the gloves.
Use these okay? Sorry, I don t think we have anything smaller. They re better than nothing though.
2 years ago