November 27th, xxxx
THE CAPTAIN'S FOOT SLIDE across the floor, Mura takes in a sharp breath and the Elder is flabbergasted. Using their stunned silence, Alpha North glance around his office at the strewn papers on his desk, the ones on the floor the Captain hasn't finished and the box Nuka dutifully leaves under the desk.
He wants to regret napping, wants to berate himself for leaving his work for another time but for the first time in a while, his brain is not relaxed per se but toned down. Less of a riot against him. He can think clearly.
That wouldn't last long though. His brain might be working fine right now but it'll soon require the frantic energy it depends on. He should've brewed a new pot..er...of coffee. Mental note to get his pot back.
"But why?" Mura speaks first, protruding upper lip thinning.
"We have nowhere to keep them. They're eight, nine more mouths to feed—"
