[Up and over, knead and fold, stretch it out. He gets it quickly enough, even if he isn't a man who generally works with his hands - not like this.]

My city, [he says, a little distantly, while he works,] is alive. In this time, she is . . . diseased. And she needs supporting.

Until Door returns, that's my job. [That doesn't sound right.] My - chosen vocation. At least until something better comes along.