“Hi, F-Foxglove!” Techie looked up from the greenhouse’s rows of crops, stopping to wipe at his nose and managing to get dirt on his face. Months of working amongst nature with his new gang had given his cheeks a rosy glow, and he’d even managed to put on enough weight to form a little pouch over his tummy, no longer skin and bones.
“I’m d-doing a lot better. I owe you my l-life,” he smiled.