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Nadir keeps distracting the Howling Cloud, though some might call it "diplomacy", even if that tends to presume a certain equal-peer level relationship between parties and the Howling Cloud have long since decided that anyone not them falls sharply into the category of Food, which makes trying to negotiate from a presumption of equality a little bit of a difficulty. The Lion very rarely discusses territory borders with the gazelle, such as it were - it'd take a very cunning gazelle.
At least when they're talking they're not drinking.
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From the back, the carriage looks less busted. It didn't hit anything. Must been used to move along and repair? There are signs of abandoned work in the walls, and the storage section further back still holds wiring and electronic microscrap. Maybe the facility staff was trying to restore this section, string out some lights, fix the rails, when they encountered the tunnelflies and met a rapid end?
There's the signs of it - long discarded brass casings on the ground from handguns fired, futility, and what looks vaguely like five to eight skeletons clustered around the exit doors. Vaguely. It's hard to be certain. The parts that aren't brittle dust are dried scraps and there's neither meat nor anything else in attendance. Could just be paradolia and a likely pile of rocks.
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The newly inaguarated Woodsie Watchers take up the perimeter and their officer accepts the mantle of the flowers of authority with, uh, let's be honest here, it's a look of confusion in their deepgreen sensory orbs but a faint inkling of pride, perhaps, at having performed the gruelling physical challenge that earned this posting.
The Woodsie Watchers report all clear, except that there appears to be some sort of awkward squabble-fight happening near one of the tunnels.
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>DOWNTIME OPS aren't "turn" or "time" limited - declare general actions to attempt to respond / resolve / interact / do / move about and there'll be some sort of result.
