Sam
I am this great, unstable mass of blood and foam
And no one in his right mind would make my home his home
It was nice to be valued for one's talents. Sam had not expect the Artisan's guild to return, had thought the Ground's time of being productive and working together for anything except war effort over, but it seemed it was wrong. Watching Amun speak he gave a laugh at the pun, though whether it was because of pity or actual amusement was unclear.
As for the work, he took to the cleaning. There was something quite therapeutic in returning the building to it's former glory, dusting off surfaces and clearing clutter until it began to look like somewhere they could work again. "It looks like a hurricane came through here. Did the Longnight monsters get in..?" Sam asked idly as he straightened out a shelf, not really expecting an answer.
Starting the repairs, a little harder than the cleaning but still (hopefully) within his abilities, Sam pulled and pushed things back into place, got rid of pieces that were entirely broken, made a list of parts they needed to buy.
--
Sam cleans and repairs!
As for the work, he took to the cleaning. There was something quite therapeutic in returning the building to it's former glory, dusting off surfaces and clearing clutter until it began to look like somewhere they could work again. "It looks like a hurricane came through here. Did the Longnight monsters get in..?" Sam asked idly as he straightened out a shelf, not really expecting an answer.
Starting the repairs, a little harder than the cleaning but still (hopefully) within his abilities, Sam pulled and pushed things back into place, got rid of pieces that were entirely broken, made a list of parts they needed to buy.
--
Sam cleans and repairs!
When I try to open up to you I get completely lost
Houses swallowed by the earth, windows thick with frost
