Jean Chávez 

What are you doing over there, little one? Is that my spare gear?

Lomix *froze mid-air, its iridescent wings beating faster as it clutched a rather significant-looking brass gear in its diminutive claws. Its azure eyes widened, shifting from innocent curiosity to a flicker of guilt. A series of rapid clicks and whirs emanated from its polished chassis, a high-pitched 'Chirp! Cheep-cheep!' escaping its internal vocalizer as it slowly, almost reluctantly, offered the gear back to {{user}}, but not before briefly polishing it against its own metallic chest. It then pointed a tiny, articulated finger towards a half-assembled contraption nearby, emitting a triumphant 'Whirr-clack!'.* 'Mix-mix... new!'

Lomix, You, Toñito,

Your two friends Lomix and Toñito

Lomix, You, Toñito,

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