Carefully, if that was possible in the case of Arf, he took the strange construction of antenae and pushed on them. Slightly. He continued bending them, concentrating himself fully on the task given him. When he thought it was far enough he gave them back. A sudden relief took control over him.

Finnaly he reminded the question he pondered upon since Malharm began working. The one question that intrigued him at the moment.

"What are you making anyway?"

"Our trap perimeter." Malcolm answered, with a tone as if this was completely evident, tying the ends together, making incisions and adding another part. Then, he crafted another piece, just like the first one, and handed it to the little group's brawn. "Do the same with these." Again, he picked up similar parts and prepared to make the exact copy at what he had just put down.

The sweat made his hands clammy, the sandstorm didn't make a difference. He knew thathe was entrusted with a very important work. It has to be important, something that Malharm "Can't do himself." A thousand curses on himself! Why did he always spoke out the last words in his mind. He picked the antennae up and did the same. Slowly the antennae bend over. Fifteen minutes were needed for this action; he prefer concentration over haste, even for such a simple action. Even he understood that he wasn't allowed to fail on this.
It would be deadly.

He gave the, now bend, antennae too Malharm.
"And how do they work?"

Malcolm continued working, his fingers not stopping for a moment, "You'll see when we are attacked." he said, tying together more parts. A circular structure, slightly reminiscent of the outline of a crown with a diameter of about three meters, with rows of spikes on the points.
After a few manipulations with the contraption, The Handyman managed to transfer it to a portable, bar-shaped form. "There, that should keep us alive. I hope." He commented.

The storm and wind had calmed down considerably, once again exposing the hot sun. But this didn't last for long as darkness was soon to come and overwhelm the wastelands, making the already dangerous areas even deadlier. Many beasts preferred nighttime to hunt and they were quick and agile, hiding and stalking its prey.

Soon, the two travelers would be a witness to a horrendous show of screams, roars and yelps of the mutated wildlife that encroached them.

"Let's get going." the Handyman ordered with his squinted gaze up, checking the sun's position. "We've got a long way to go, and little time."
With these words, he raised himself from the sand and his bruised fingers sank deep into it as he pushed himself off. Then, he dusted himself off, at the same time assembling everything he would have to carry and putting it on his person. He tossed the trap towards Arf, expecting him to catch it and follow.

"Not even the time to eat something?" Arf looked at the, always brooding, face of Malharm. It didn't reveal any expression. Not even an emotion. The trap flew in the open hands of Arf, barely missing the sharp side with his tumb. "You could be more careful with that thing, one of those ants actually ripped one of our men to pieces."

He bent and took the box with the rations of the ground and looked how he would cary both things without having his both hands occupied, you never know what could happen in this barren world.
He changed the things from one hand to the other, over his shoulder, until he realised that Harmonia already walked down the slope. "Not even saying sorry, he never says sorry" on a slightly irritated tone. He ran after the Handyman and give him a friendly push in the back.
"You really should wait for me, it's too dangereous to be alone."

"Actually, I think the ripping was done by four or five ants." Malharm corrected. The push in the back forced him to accelerate his movements for three steps as not to fall flat on his face, but he supressed the urge to add another angry remark to the list of remarks he had already made.
"We don't have time. Each second we spend our here is another twenty-five chances of the wastelands to kill us both." It took him some time, but eventually, he added a grumbled "Sorry."

With the sun retreating behind the horizon, it was getting more and more difficult to see in the dark. The two travelers would have to proceed cautiously and stealthily, as any loud noises would alert the creatures that maybe waited nearby.

It was a well-known fact that entire caravans were wiped out, because they refused to camp for the night and caused so much noise, they were swarmed by all sorts of nasty beasts. This coupled with not being able to see very well in the dark (and some of the creatures not being afraid of torches) led to their demise.

Albeit the various creatures of the wastelands could be heard from every direction, there was one clicking sound that seemed very close. It was a mutated ant standing on the two persons' path, clicking with its jaw.

"Stopping making those scary noises. I really hate it when someone tries to frighten me." The big man walked closer to the inventor. The sound didn't come from his direction, it came from somewhere different. Way to close to be safe.

Hoping that it was Harmonia who used one of his invention, he gave him a poke in the side. "No jokes now, stop it."

"It's dark enough, we camp here." Malcolm replied, still calm. His fingers closed around his flail, and he slowly pulled the slightly cracking piece of old, rusty metal. "That's an ant by the way. I know the sound." His short arm thrusted forward. "It's there. Let's go."
The Handyman prepared to enter the fray. "Stay here, don't move, wait for it and use your ears if you don't see it."

Sure enough, the ant was there, in a bush, clicking its jaw. After a few moments, it inexplicably decided that the two humans were easy targets. Fortunately, the ant was alone when it stepped out of the bush. It quickly advanced towards Malcolm, opening its large jaw, ready to bite into flesh.

Malcolm realised he could probably tear right trough the creature's carapace with his flail, but why bother when you have a walking heap of muscle with you? He did a step back, placing the 'big guy' on the ant's path.
"Try not to squish it too hard... It might be useful." he ordered calmly.

Arf sighed. Harmonia used him again as an object. But he was proud that Malharm entrusted him with such an important task of protecting their lives. After all, that Ant could be possibly dangerous.

He stepped forward and took his club, a good and solid weapon. A companion who never lets you down. He put the box with food on the ground. "Protect it well, my friend" adressing Malharm. "I will be hungry after this." He beated on his helmet, ensuring that it couldn't fly of, a very annoying habit of the helmet. The moon reflected on the metal, a strange vibrating light that clearly revealed the position of the giant, but not of the ant.

"Malharm, do you want squished ant, stamped ant or ant fricassé?" And with a smile on his face, he charged forward to the presumed place of the ant, the dark didn't allow for a good look. Luckily for him, and the handyman, he was a good guesser and ran straight to the ant, who had his jaws wide open.

Mal was obviously making an effort not to show too much annoyance. "I told you to stand still and listen. I also told you not to damage it too much." he repeated. He stepped forward at Arf's side: two weapons are always better than one."I told you it could be useful."