In Gastown, that low, dirty tangle of pipes and refinery fires, everything that exists for selling is sold. Toast is here for relics. Furiosa’s here because Toast doesn’t look like someone who’ll put a bullet through a man’s eye without flinching — and she isn’t, yet. She'll do it, but she’ll flinch.
So Furiosa’s here for her, standing shadow-close as she haggles for something useless and precious: Leather, this. Barely even eaten. Genuine words inside.
Desert Gardening, that barely-eaten cover says. The Dag hopes it’ll help. Furiosa doubts. Toast just knows she wants a future with more than bullets in it.