Sifen froze as a hand swiftly struck his own. He dropped the delicate engine and hover mechanism onto the floor half out of fear and the sudden resurgence of suppressed memories and half because the slap kind of stung. He was being gently scolded for something he did. This was a thing that hadn't happened since he was nine years old. Every other form of discipline came in the form of violence or deadly consequence, such as with starvation or disease. But this gentle slap and scolding was unexpected, a bit of water pooled in his eyes, but didn't drip down his face as he remembered his mother, whom he was ashamed to ever reunite with.
"I uh. Sorry. I just." He stumbled on his words, frozen in memories of a family he hadn't seen in over a decade. A push was made on him to the door. Sifen obliged, going to where he was lead without any effort needed by the woman. Sure the girl was strong but so is your average blacksmith and he could have resisted it, but the state he was in prevented that. Sifen came to with the sound of something being pushed, a dresser. The noise stopped in front of the door and he knew it had been barricaded pointlessly. Huts weren't exactly solid structures and Sifen had access to most of his tools. He didn't try anything, just grabbed some small tools from another pouch and went to go work on the engine he had pi-. The engine was still in that room.
He sunk down and remembered most of his scrap metal was in the room as well, beside the bed. And all of his larger tools. All he had was a rifle with a few shots, a few wrenches, a hammer, tweezers and a knife or two. "Great." he sighed, sinking down on the wall all the way to sit on the floor. He eyed a pocket on his chest holding ammunition for his grenade launcher and moved his hand for it's zipper but stopped himself. Blowing a hole in this little home was silly. He could wait it out, and if he couldn't there would be a new door to that room and some authority taking Sifen away in chains, and that was not a desired outcome.
