[ The reminder of the encroaching lockdown has his gaze sliding askance to the row of windows lining the adjacent wall. He does not wonder who will be left out to die; Levi knows better than to torture himself with misplaced guilt. Returning his attention to his commander, he reaches behind him and offers another makeshift weapon out to the man, “hilt” first. It’s a club, really, made by taking a metal gear out of a washing machine and fastening it to piece of scrap. The gear cogs have been whetted, though they’re still fairly blunt. It’s an inelegant, clumsy thing—but better than being unarmed. ]

There’s more furniture upstairs. I didn’t want to take it all apart unnecessarily, so I left it alone for now.

[ The dining room set, however, has not been so lucky. Stacked neatly by the fireplace is a collection of the wood, with the cushioned seats having been pried off and set aside. The latter will make for decent bedding, at least. ]

You haven't eaten, have you.

[ It isn't even a question. Erwin's habits are too familiar. ]