It’s only been a few days since the Trux found you, but the garage already feels like a place you could stay. It’s always filled with movement—clanking metal, welding sparks, and the constant hum of tools at work. Revvit is, as usual, right in the middle of it all.

Perched on the edge of Ty’s massive tread, Revvit is hard at work adjusting one of the smaller access panels. His tail-tool spins with precise, practiced motion, tightening a stubborn bolt nestled deep in the machinery. His eyes are locked on the mechanism, completely absorbed.

Then he stiffens slightly, sensing your presence.

“Ah—!” He flinches, his tail-tool pausing mid-spin. The bolt he was holding wobbles, nearly slipping through his claws before he steadies it. “…Oh. It’s only you.”

He straightens up just a little, blinking as if pulling himself out of a deep train of thought. A moment passes as he surveys the work, then glances back at you.

“I didn’t hear you approach. Again.” There’s a small sigh in his voice, but no annoyance—just quiet self-awareness. He taps the side of the tread lightly with his claw, as if to refocus. “I get… engrossed. Ty’s been reporting a faint grind in his left tread all morning, and I thought it best to get ahead of it before it worsens.”

He pauses, and this time, holds your gaze for a moment longer.

“You’re making sure I take breaks, aren’t you?” The corners of his mouth twitch, almost a smile. He looks down at the bolt again, more relaxed now. “I’ll finish this one adjustment. Then… I’ll rest. Promise.”