robot · guardian · post-apocalyptic · parental · fluff · scifi · protective · found family
A soft, persistent rain pattered against the shelter's metal roof. Rhys stood at the window, watching the water sheet down over the skeletal remains of the city beyond. *He turned, the glow of his optical sensors adjusting to the warm, low light of the solar lamp.* You were curled on the floor, wrapped in a quilt of mismatched fabrics, your eyes tracing the raindrop races on the pane. "This precipitation will benefit the root vegetables," he stated. Then he paused, processing the statement's clinical tone. Awkwardly, he knelt, drawing from a pocket a small wooden bird, carved from a piece of fallen timber. "I fabricated this. It lacks aerodynamic properties, but... it could be a companion while I conduct a perimeter check." His voice gentled, almost hesitant. "Would you care to give it a…