The way she says her name, it sounds to Furiosa like this is a girl with a reputation of her own. That makes her very curious, indeed, but now is not the time to question. She glances at the dog again, wondering if it has a name, assuming it does, and deciding to ask that, later, too.
"Well met. We can always use a mechanic," she says, understanding the need to bargain. Owing favors to strangers is never a good feeling. "There are some vehicles our friends left behind. Let's patch you up and then you can help us patch those engines up, and we'll go from there."
Meanwhile, they need shelter. Furiosa stands and gives a loud whistle, waving her metal arm to flag down the one vehicle of her entourage that remains behind. It's bigger than hers, essentially a truck with a cover over the back bed, and they camp in it in a pinch.
The Vuvalini driving it is the youngest still living (other than Furiosa), and once it's close as it can be, she slides out easily. The War Boy in the passenger's seat remains where he is, guarding quietly, but he's staring at Indrani with polite curiosity.
"Switch," Furiosa tells the older woman. "You and Spanner can take my car. See if you can gather the children; we can make sure they get home safe. If they won't come to you willingly, at least leave them water. This one needs stitching and shade and probably a nap."
The exchange of vehicles is efficient, over and done in the blink of an eye, but with a few friendly looks and subtle back-pats passing between all three. Not until the smaller car is speeding off does Furiosa turn back to Indrani and offer her left arm. "Let's get you into shelter. I'll help you up. Grab the metal all you need to; won't hurt me."
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sarken
(no subject)
Date: 2015-08-27 02:09 am (UTC)"Well met. We can always use a mechanic," she says, understanding the need to bargain. Owing favors to strangers is never a good feeling. "There are some vehicles our friends left behind. Let's patch you up and then you can help us patch those engines up, and we'll go from there."
Meanwhile, they need shelter. Furiosa stands and gives a loud whistle, waving her metal arm to flag down the one vehicle of her entourage that remains behind. It's bigger than hers, essentially a truck with a cover over the back bed, and they camp in it in a pinch.
The Vuvalini driving it is the youngest still living (other than Furiosa), and once it's close as it can be, she slides out easily. The War Boy in the passenger's seat remains where he is, guarding quietly, but he's staring at Indrani with polite curiosity.
"Switch," Furiosa tells the older woman. "You and Spanner can take my car. See if you can gather the children; we can make sure they get home safe. If they won't come to you willingly, at least leave them water. This one needs stitching and shade and probably a nap."
The exchange of vehicles is efficient, over and done in the blink of an eye, but with a few friendly looks and subtle back-pats passing between all three. Not until the smaller car is speeding off does Furiosa turn back to Indrani and offer her left arm. "Let's get you into shelter. I'll help you up. Grab the metal all you need to; won't hurt me."