Tyson gritted his teeth, before continuing to shovel the coal into a fiery boiler. The flames licked at the coals as the glowed a warm yellow. Suddenly a bell rang through the large warehouse, signifying the change of shifts. Tyson sighed a heavy sigh of relief. He passed a young woman, and winked at her slyly. She rolled her eyes, and carried on walking. Continuing on his way, Tyson made his way towards the large exit doors that let light sunlight rush into the room. He stepped out, and breathed the clear, cool air deeply. Then, as always, he started to walk towards the rear of Hull. He sat on the observation deck, admiring the barren landscape and trying to identify some sorts of difference. But, as always, there was nothing.

Peter looked through his field glasses, there in the distance was the dust cloud that indicated there was a city beyond the horizon and judging by the amount of dust being stirred up into the thin air it was a sizable city at that. "Within the hour I should be able to see it from this altitude" said Peter once again talking to himself as pilots of airships tend to do.
Suddenly a hiccup from the right engine pod jolted the whole gonadal and throw Peter against the controls, "Oh poskitt, what was that?" exclaimed Peter. He staggered to him feet and lumbered across the angled steel floor, leaning out of the window bright flames light his face and he recoiled sharply as the flames licked at his face and upper torso.
Apparently those fox spirits had done more damage to the airship than he thought...