Amidst the scattered dappling of hovels, tents, and shanties, the small femme is walking softly. Slowly she closes in on the opening to a small shelter made of scrap metal. She brings out a small canister she had tucked away and squats down by the small opening most Transformers would have to crawl to get through. Upon announcing herself, she hands the item to a pair of hands that reached out. She waits a moment, and then she takes something small that is offered to her. Tucking it away discretely, she rises to her feet and walks nonchalantly away, whistling.