She hadn’t checked the runes on the other shells, and thus didn’t actually know whether she had any shells other than “low-yield”. The conversation was somewhat interrupted by the feeling of cold marble on her shoulder and the sight of Sigmund’s bushy face when she turned to look.

“All done?” she asked, taking the Tablet from him. The only answer she got was an affirmative grunt while he walked over to the nearest free log to take a seat on. When she lowered her gaze toward the Tablet she caught Zefaris’s eye affixed squarely on her stomach, only for the twin-pupiled eye to jump to the fire a half-second later.

SCANNING UPDATING RECORD UPDATE SUCCESSFUL

A warm thrum shot up her arm when the so-called record update took place. The readout changed to show her traits rather than attributes, as Sigmund hadn’t switched it back to that readout after checking his own traits.

TRAITS Survivor’s Instinct Fog-breathing Lesser Great-cleaver Expertise Lesser Gunmanship (Arm-cannon Spec.) Osmotic Essentia Absorption Metabolic Alkahest Beast Butchering Arts (Unique)

Paying the readout no particular mind, she swiped to the left twice to get to the Fog Storage. “Hey, look at this,” she waved at Zefaris, placing the Tablet on her lap and activating the PUT INTO STORAGE function. Even she was entertained by the small Fog vortex forming, as mundane a thing as it was.

The blonde sluggishly raised her eye from the fire-pit. She had been becoming progressively more noticeably sleepy, and now that Zelsys thought about it, she was somewhat sleepy as well. Nevertheless, there were still a few things to be done before she was willing to sleep. She dropped the casing into the vortex, waiting for it to dissipate before she pressed BROWSE STORAGE. The tablet distinguished between the loaded shells, but it did so by labeling them as “Type-1 Loaded shell” or “Type-2 Loaded Shell”.

She recovered a Type-1 Loaded shell, and sure enough, it had the rune for “low-yield” on its base. A turn of the bolt handle, a backwards yank, and the bolt popped open, to which Zefaris’s sluggish demeanor perked up somewhat as she visibly began to pay more attention when Zelsys did absolutely anything involving the “Arm-cannon”, as the Tablet referred to it.

Clack. Clack. The bolt shut, Zelsys rose to her feet and stretched, letting out an involuntary moan of “Mnnngh…” as she did. “Think I’ll call it a night,” she said, rolling her shoulders to shake off the last remnants of stiffness from sitting motionless.

“Same here, probably,” muttered Sigmund, his eyes half-closed. Zefaris only gave an indistinct affirmative groan as she leaned forward, slowly standing up and dusting herself off.

Just about ready to sleep, Zelsys walked to the transport and slipped into the lower right bunk. She took off her boots, the cleaver’s holster, and the arm-cannon alongside its arm harness, placing all three against the wall. Short as the bunk was for her height, it was plenty wide, unlike the passage between it and the other bunk.