You scrounge up as much material as you can carry in a single trip and trudge back to the workshop, cursing the extra weight with increasing vehemence the entire way. When you finally heave it all off your shoulders, hidden behind the shop's heavy machinery, you let loose an oath that would crinkle the fur on your grandmother's nose even from the grave.
A muffled chuckle from behind causes you to jump. You twist about in place like startled prey before you realize that it's only the shop's manager.
"Heh," Razor laughs. "Well, aren't you a raw bundle of nerves?"
You roll your eyes at the muscle-bound behemoth of a wolf. "You'd be jumpy, too, if you had to sneak past the humans as often as I do."
She snorts. "Any time you want to switch jobs with me you can be my guest, pup. Just be ready to lift hundreds of pounds of metal, sweat your ass off working the humans' machines, and deal with Colonel Williams constantly breathing down your neck about the 'unacceptable delays in production.'"