As your own trunk beeps telling you to get a move on with the delivery, Rodya sits down on a nearby bench now that the snowstorm has let up a little. Taking out an energy candy bar from a slot in her trunk, and smacking it as it warns her for using the slots for personal items. The beeping worries you, as you know you're the fourth owner of your own trunk within this year alone.

"Ah, lighten up newbie. The trunk will only hurt us if we take a really long time. Just think of all the nice sights we get to see, in the coldest backstreets of the city. Just think of all the warm food we get to eat when we get paid. Hell, rich snobs might even tip us. We've got, what, 10 hours until the deadline? Only half a district's backstreet to cover. Hm? Why don't we use a car? Darling, have you seen the traffic in this district?"

Despite Rodya's frivolous jokes and conversation you notice that she keeps eyeing the small timer on her own trunk, and yours, she doesn't want to be the one to lose an underling this time. She cares for this newbie beyond having to carry their trunk back if they die.