Hunkered down behind an upended desk that he was using as a makeshift windbreak, the Eliksni let out a quiet, hissing sigh, watching the snow form into small drifts where it was being blown in through the open doorway. A tattered pouch full of scavenged ammunition, retrieved from corpses left in the wake of one of the most recent patrols from the City, sat beside him. A peace offering to the Captain who had allowed him to work alongside his crew for the time being. Picking over the dead for whatever scraps could be recovered and reused. Distasteful work, but a better alternative than starving to death.
He ran a claw along the barrel of a shock pistol that stuck up out of the bag, tracing the markings carved into it by whichever Dreg had last owned it. He needed to get back to their temporary camp soon, preferably before the sun set or another patrol decided to pass by. He didn't want to risk running into a pack of better equipped, trigger-happy Guardians, not while his ether rations were on the line. But the wind and the snow were making travel difficult, especially over the frozen rocks he needed to traverse, and without a helmet, poor visibility made it even more treacherous. Hopefully the storm would die down soon.