It feels nice to have this much attention paid to his armor. Tarn allows his arm to be lifted and holds it awkwardly as Spinister brushes and picks at the dirt clogging the mechanisms. Detailing like this was a commonplace activity amongst his team, particularly after a hunt. However, the last person to assist him with bathing to this extent was Sixshot. A sickly depression crawls over him as he recalls the memory. How he misses his old lover…

Tarn tries to snap himself out of it to address Spinister.

“Yes, I expect that you’re right.” He forces himself to relax again, if only to allow the brush and wire to continue to pick all of the dirt from his back and sides.

“Shovels should be easy enough to come by. And, if need be, I am not above beginning to dig out with my bare hands. At least for a while."