The earth shaking beneath her feet wasn't anything new. For a girl born in a space ship floating in space, the Ark had shifted a little beneath her feet. It wasn't until she was older she learned it'd been constructed to bear a good portion of the thwacks the arms of space would slam against its sides. Her one hundred year old pod didn't have the same bubble wrap as her home had.

She tried not to think too much of it. Unfamiliar with how she should prepare for the oncoming onslaught of the earth shaking beneath her feet, she was in another room inside of the inn, pilfering through it for the sake of seeing if she hadn't found something hidden in a dark corner. Her own workspace had become littered with knickknacks she'd stolen from the other houses at the far ends of the town, and she'd been slipping into her pockets bits and pieces she'd found inside of the rooms of the inn.

With her back to the door, she didn't peer over her shoulder to see who was coming inside. She'd come to know the footsteps of some of the people in the inn, and the ones that tried to sound as quiet as a mouse but were as loud as a crack in a twig belonged to Jess Brightwell. Opening a drawer, she let herself squat, and dug her hands inside of the wooden box in hopes of finding anything she could use to help herself repair an old typewriter.

"Long legs, make yourself useful and check above the doorframe for anything loose."