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Ideogram 2a
Luka overheard a soldier at one of the bartering/supply 'counters' defending a horde of small items, mostly for carrying sharpening stones, magnets, and hand cannon ammunition. The soldier behind the plank countertop was not impressed.
"This is just battlefield junk - from Woan bodies, at that!"
"Yeah, exactly." The man caught Luka listening, grinned at him, and turned back to the big supply officer. "One Woan, right? So take yer stuff back."
"Ok Slick, I go'ya." He reached deeply, producing a molded but sizeable hunk of dark bread. "Maybe the ice will stop the mold, eh? Off!"
Luka continued with the general shuffle away from the throng, eventually joined by the man at the counter. They exchanged a nod and continued, unhurriedly, out of the camp area.
"Going to Ice?" Luka asked him finally. He noted less faded patches on his shoulders in the shape of chevrons.
"Yeah. Home." He put out a hand. "I'm Valman."
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