Post-mealtime, there's not much to clean up. Trays of food were composed of those sippy cartons and pleps of food in the tray sections. It's a matter of putting the leftovers in the scrapings bin for the next meat reconstitution (guuuuhhh). Rarely there's a spec left after such a minimal meal though. Life for the tray lickers!
With the sun past the meal zenith and clouds obscuring much of the skyborn radiation orb, a more tolerable heat haze bakes the outdoors.
There's movement as groups of residents move that way to ~practice~. Before leaving the shelter of shade, garments are stripped so that only the necessary modesty is retained and expose as much skin as possible. A number of residents have tattoos that resemble 3-winged caduceus on their spines.
In the alternative, there are youths being herded down another hallway that descends into compound. for ~edumacation~.
Sabra goes with the people going outside, and Issa shepherds the kiddies. Auntie has enlisted some of her people to take the strongbox and crate somewhere away from prying eyes so the contents can be inventoried and judgement can be made on distribution or use. A peek inside both convinced her that the visitors should be allowed to explore lighted sections of the compound if they so desire or the immediate vicinity, but they are under the under their own responsibility of good conduct. And to avoid taboos, whatever those cultural landmines they might be.
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