Silence was the only sound of consistency in the small hamlet. Those that dwelt in its hillside homes heard only the howl of the wind on the Waste when words and work were done.

This never sat well with Trium and his friends, but the the boys performed their recollection duties in the Ansas Cit debris fields faithfully. Amidst the drone on the homeward trip one day they examined the choicest items from the day’s efforts.

Phover fingered an irregular wooden box with a plank supported by wires that he would likely strip down.

Tra uncovered a similar box and boasted about the thicker wires on his plank.

The wooden ring held by Gedy slapped against his leg in an absentminded guesture as he chanted words from the Hamlet Scroll under his breath. The small metal discs of the ring jingled lightly as the cart entered the carriage house.

Trium was envious as he unloaded the assortment of tubs and golden platters he had found. Distracted for a moment, he dropped some wooden rods onto a tub.

Thump, thump