The fire crackled low, barely enough to keep the cold from creeping into his bones. Levi sat hunched over, sharpening his knife more out of habit than need, letting the rhythmic scrape fill the silence between them.

Hange was on the other side of the fire, goggles pushed up in their messy hair, sleeves rolled to the elbows. They were poking at something on a flattened scrap of metal- one of the creatures they’d downed earlier. Always had to dissect, examine, catalog. Even now.

"You're going to make that thing your pet at this rate," Levi muttered, not looking up.