[ Furiosa doesn't say anything when she arrives at the War Rig; she just slides into the cab and closes the door, looking at Sans for a moment, before she reaches over his head at the shift he was looking at and curls her metal hand around the femur bone. She pulls up, sliding the knife from its holder, a motion she was obviously used to checking, and then pushes it gently back down. ]
I hope you're not allergic to dust.
[ There was a lot of it in the rig, though it was less 'dust' and more fine reddish sand, with the faint smell of salt, just barely visible over the smell of diesel. Much of the rig is made from items that would be considered 'junk' in the old world, now welded into the giant hull.
As Furiosa settles into the driver's seat, she puts her hand over Sans's, directing it to the magic 8-ball, then makes him pull the lever. There's a loud clang outside. ]
That one is the cow catcher. At high speeds it can kick up sand and put out engine fires.
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I hope you're not allergic to dust.
[ There was a lot of it in the rig, though it was less 'dust' and more fine reddish sand, with the faint smell of salt, just barely visible over the smell of diesel. Much of the rig is made from items that would be considered 'junk' in the old world, now welded into the giant hull.
As Furiosa settles into the driver's seat, she puts her hand over Sans's, directing it to the magic 8-ball, then makes him pull the lever. There's a loud clang outside. ]
That one is the cow catcher. At high speeds it can kick up sand and put out engine fires.