Lenomie is working with the wide door to the shop open--it's a warm day with one of those sweet breezes that sometimes run through Til Tomeil, and it curls through the strewn-around pieces of machinery and parts lying around the shop, and rustles her hair, pulled back in a braid. She's mostly under a small cargo transport, her legs visible from the knees down, and swearing cheerfully as she works.