It so happens that Jayce's own partner is the one sitting there, though more simply in Jayce's vicinity than with him, in spirit. That the two of them have been coexisting peacefully for entire minutes now, without so much as a shitty look between them, may be attributed to the suspense those in camp have been left to bear. Viktor has been fussing over the parts of a smallish hand winch to pass the time, his tool roll at his side, his working surface a battered wooden box upended between his knees.

Out of nowhere, across the low-burning fire: Chip.

"What?" He breaks his puzzled stare to frown at the drum gear in his hand, turns it over, "Where?"