Wasted.

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Wasted.
A mutant child. Or an angel, whatever you prefer to believe. She’s way too far from home, scared, hurt (but not too badly) and does not speak anything but odd nomadic dialect. Delilah here, she speaks it too, and the reason for it is a whole another story.
Dug, chill. It’s just a mirror.
Very hasty residential build. I really need to put more houses in my game.
When your dog is cute and knows it can get away with anything.
Furball’s name is Dug the dog. Pure bred chow chow (nevermind tongue being pink, maybe one day I’ll be less lazy and start edit it). In the time he was a pup, Dug was given to Delilah as a payment for fixing water filtration in Chinatown part of the Colony. Dug is smart, but lazy and rely on good looks. Having a dog like this, especially trained, is rather a luxury.
Why we don’t fly anymore? Why we don’t fix old machines? Why we don’t try to conquer the skies? Why?
Garrett. Garrett! Tell me that you and this feeble associate of yours didn’t stole a nomad’s child. She needs to be taken back to her tribe. Like. Now.