[PQ] [RQ] into the grit and grime

Iskra

If I could just lay my head down and rest
If there was nothing to fight or protect

Steam billows around as Iskra blows impatiently on the warm cup of coffee he'd snagged on his way here. Through the ribbons of heat, he peers down at the start of the trench, brows taking a wary climb up while his gaze descends. He crouches down to better see, which is of course open invitation for Goose to drive his snout beneath the arm holding coffee. Letting out a startled hiss, Iskra lifts that hand up and away at the first splash, his free hand rubbing across the husky's chest as Goose leans into his legs unhelpfully.

"You think there will be erosion issues from wind and melt?" Iskra wonders, sight line tracing the curve if the past work with suspicion that it won't all be holding up to time and weather. At least is the best season to see it. "Guessing some animal movement and plant growth could have disturbed the rims too." Hopefully they'd not discover some burrow of a creature that made it their home, or the half-decomposed corpse of one that fell in and could not escape. Giving the dog a solid pat, Iskra rises back to full height, sipping thoughtfully on his warm beverage. "At least the snow pack should have also helped, left it stabilized in most regions, I'd wager." He's no geologist though.

Maybe then I could finally be free
Maybe death is like falling asleep