"Dosk make sun automaton," he points to the cardboard, "sun give sun. Dosk make scooter," he points to the scooter. "Dosk make automaton," he points to Nawi. "Nawi give Nawi. Dosk make automaton," he picks up the cup again, makes a gesture at the pick-up-and-carry-water mime he did earlier but very abridged. "Give?"

He's not sure that's clear enough but he's trying to ask if she needs materials to make the automaton with.

"Person give," she nods. "Dosk," wobbly gesture, "make. Person make scooter, artifact make scooter; Dosk make scooter artifact."

He does the cup-water-carry gesture again, "automaton, give...?" He picks up the cup, like he's trying to ask if the cup would do it. He points to his hat, like he's trying to ask if his hat is the right kind of thing.

She shakes her head, and pulls out the folded-up scooter to point out how the wheels still spin and the hinge is still a hinge.

He says something to Gari. Gari thinks about it and says something.

Vaayo gets up and motions for Dosk to follow him. He brings the plastic cards he was carrying before.

She slings her bundle back over her shoulder and brings the scooter with her, but follows.

Out they go. He knocks on a door, has a brief conversation with the person who answers, hands over one of his cards.

He leads Dosk to a wagon that's meant to be drawn by some kind of animal but is slightly broken so it would be hard to harness an animal to it. It isn't broken in a way that would keep it from rolling. "Give Dosk," he says. "Dosk make automaton?"

She looks it over, then points to the handlebars on her scooter. "Give?"

He thinks about that for a while, then motions for her to follow him somewhere else. He knocks on another door and has another conversation that ends in him giving this person a card, too. "Give Dosk," he says. He points inside. The crafter whose door he knocked on stands aside to let Dosk in to look around. There are all sorts of odds and ends, broken things and half-made projects and tools and materials. Wood waiting to be made into things, a broken steel blade, an axe head without a handle. Vaayo and the crafter seem to expect that whatever Dosk was asking for is in here somewhere.

Dosk looks around, paying special attention to anything with moving parts. It looks for a while like she's going to choose a toddler's riding toy with handlebars similar to her scooter, but then she finds an experimental butter churn with a crank that will do the job nicely, and then goes to look at the hand tools.

There's quite a variety of them. None are the least bit automated but other than that there's just about anything. Most of them are iron or steel.

The crafter watches her curiously. Vaayo seems pleased that she's finding what she needs. Both of them seem to trust that she knows how to be safe with sharp tools, neither of them try to stop her or steer her toward the relatively less dangerous ones.

She looks them over carefully, and puts together a set that meets her standards - sharp and relatively lightweight, with large enough handles to let her get a good grip. That done, she brings them and the butter churn back to Vaayo. "Dosk work."

Vaayo looks concerned for a moment, then smiles and offers her his shady hat.

She's a little confused at that, but takes it and puts it on. "Thank you."

Back at the wagon, the first thing she does is settle in the shade of it to plan out what she's going to do on a piece of cardboard from her pack; she sends Nawi off to hunt while she works.

After a little while he comes over and sets a full canteen down beside her. He doesn't seem to want to talk, just to make sure she has water.

She's far too engrossed in her planning to notice.

Next time he comes by, though, she's started work on the wagon itself: the butter churn is lashed to one side of the bench, each wheel has a ring of symbols around the hub, and she's started carving more symbols into the sides of it, carefully.

He stops to watch for a while, fascinated.

He also takes a look at her, checking if she seems like she's okay to keep working in this heat.

...not really. It's pretty obvious that she's not used to it, now that he looks: she's not avoiding the sun nearly as much as she could be, and while it has occurred to her to roll up her sleeves, she hasn't done anything about the too-warm pants she's wearing. And she's sweating more than he'd expect even given that, and hasn't drunk enough water to counterbalance it. She's doing an admirable job of powering through regardless, if you can call something so unwise admirable, but it's still concerning.

He hesitates, not wanting to block her view of her work, not wanting to rely on sound when she's hard of hearing. In the end he settles on the second thing and waits for a moment when she seems least poised to do serious damage to anything if she startles and jerks.

"Hey!" he says, a little louder than he would for someone else at this distance but arguably not shouting.

She does startle, but his timing is good; she drops her chisel, but doesn't gouge the wood or herself in the process. She picks it up again and checks the blade before turning to see what he wants.

He points to the canteen. He points to her.

He's visibly worried.

She investigates the canteen, takes a sip, and then offers it to him, clearly confused.

A sip is better than nothing. He's less worried now, anyway.

He points to her. He tries to mime sweat dripping off his face.

...yes...?

It's really too hot for someone with no comprehension of basic summer safety to be working outside. And he can't explain all the things she failed to learn in her non-desert homeland because they don't share a language.

Then he has an idea. He gestures for her to wait a moment and runs off.