I stop, and think for a moment, before turning around and accepting the offer.
Faw walks (presumably with Guerra) out of the barracks and towards the mess hall on the opposite side of the airbase. On the way, that machinations of the air-base reveal themselves in full- hundred of supply trucks and fork-lifts hauling spare parts, munitions, fuel, food, and an assortment of trinkets and miscellaneous parts to the hangars.
Faw tries to start a conversation.
"It's, uh, pretty hot. I've been sweating like a pig ever since we got transferred to this place. The fact that the air-conditioner in our rooms only works when the Gods think we deserve a little relief doesn't help either."
stuff. That came out impossibly stilted and uneven, it's clear that it was just a petty attempt at small-talk.