Dryn crawled out from under a large machinery and shoved the few small scrap parts she managed to take off into the pouches strapped to her thighs. She looked up and covered her eyes as the sun beamed down on her, focusing them after being under the machine for quite some time.
Dryn stretched out her arms and was about to make her way towards the bazaar through a dense crowd until a red-haired someone with a bag slung over their shoulder pushed past her. A thief's hunch, but something has to be of value in that back and it must have already been stolen. Dryn slowly followed after the ragged person, who seemed to smell of oil.