[ hey, so for these particular conditions? jayce is disliking the rain. it's damp everywhere, humid, and absolutely the worst circumstance to not only keep a fire burning in the confines of a forge, but actually making coal. jayce has been forced to save fuel, using other materials to burn such as lard, bones, anything— as long as it didn't eat through the remainder of his already dwindling supply. with a canopy stretched out over his truck made with fabrics and thin sheets of scrap, and a drying rack within the convoy's empty spaces where the heating is favorable to dry out waterlogged tree trunks, jayce is turning the logs over and sighing, quite heavily, as he checks the coal barrels. so far so good, but . . . this is stressing him out. so much that his acknowledgement of donnie's arrival are focused on his swiveling ears. slanted eyes are kind of glued to the fire and trying to keep it burning. ]
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Hey, Whiz.