Taking Spinister anywhere is always a exercise in patience. It takes at least 60% longer to do anything between stopping to thoroughly investigate every possible scrap of metal discarded in the sand. And certainly the endless inane chatter isn’t helping matters. Tarn pauses every now and then, listening and surveying their surroundings in search of anything, or anyone, unusual. Ever since Rampage began stalking him, Tarn has been constantly been on the defense.

Still, matters could be worse, and although Tarn would never admit it, he’s finding it easier and easier to tolerate Spinister’s presence. He even, occasionally, has sought it out. After all as far as watching out for potential danger, two sets of optics are better than one. Which is what brings them to where they are now, combing the wastes for shovels or anything that could be fashioned into one. The basement of their dwelling holds too much potential to pass up, all they need to do is dig it out.

Tarn sighs, stooping to pull a sheet out metal out of the sand, turning it in his hands and testing its sturdiness. Casting a glance over his shoulder he proceeds to turn and address Spinister.

“What do you think of this sheet? It’s certainly the most sturdy that we’ve found so far."