...By the time he got back, he was already fairly exhausted, but there was enough water for a few days in each bucket, so he determined that the effort was worth it. 

He announced his presence right as he walked back in, his hair still moderately damp.  He placed the polearm right next to the door and walked over to the water basin.  He pulled it off of the wooden cupboard it was resting on and brought it outside.  He then cleaned it out with a small amount of water from one of the buckets, filled it up, and brought it over to the fire.  Once the metal grill was in place, he put the metal basin over the fire to that it’d boil.

After this, he closed the door, put his robe back on, and sat down in the chair in front of the fire. Immediately he was reminded of the other day, and frowned. [i]I shouldn't overwork myself, but...[/i] He had a good amount of time to think over his conflicting thoughts about whether or not resting in the chair was good for his mental health before hearing the familiar, but jarring sound of Raine's voice. 

He turned quickly to look at her, as if breaking himself out of a trance. She was still preparing meat from the other day. He listened intently to what she had to say, but gave a shrug in response as he looked back over to the fire. He remembered back to his search of the house for sewing materials: he looked through the wardrobe that he found the robes in quite thoroughly, then started looking through other containers and potential hiding spots. Even with his investigation skills as a bounty hunter, he couldn't find any bare thread or needles. [i]Guess Drake wouldn't care for sewing anyway. His hands are probably too big and clumsy.[/i] While the thought entertained Flake, he decided not to smile, and instead replied to Raine.

"Couldn't find any." He paused, then smirked dumbly and continued, "Well, I didn't find any needles or thread. Can't say I know much about sewing, so that's all I knew to look for." He almost felt like cringing after the words left his mouth. Sure, he wanted to clarify, but it left a bad taste in his mouth to reveal a [i]weakness[/i] to a person whom he knew almost entirely by means of combat and second-hand information. He eyed her to gauge her response after he spoke, but kept the dumb smirk. After all, [i]if I was worried about people knowing that I can't sew, I would be dead by now.[/i]

He expected her to be disappointed by the news - that there weren't any sewing supplies. Turns out that that's exactly how she reacted. He sighed, feeling as if some of her emotion was radiating over to him. "What I do when I don't have the right tool for the job is I improvise." He gestured over to the polearm that he practiced with. "Try making what you need. It'll pass the time." With this said, he eyed what she was working so hard on and asked, "speaking of which, anything I can do to help?"