Right on time.
It was about mid-day when Vale screamed coarsely, and of course Olalla made his way to the sound; a folded, tannish paper like, thinned hide in his hands as he sort of shambled on his back legs toward the screaming child.

Olalla new Vale was a capable being, however dead and undead vey were, but he also knew of Vale's limits; vey were smart sure, but certain topics eluded them. Like building, hence the blueprints. And maybe it was because Vale, being the war criminal vey were, was more used to tearing things down rather than building, but he supposed with practice the goopy mess of a creature would be pretty okay with construction. At least in later days.

Huffing lightly, the beast made his way through dappled jungle and scorched ground, dipping and weaving through young vines and sprouting plants. While the jungle had been regrowing a bit, thanks to some rain and replanting, he knew he needed help. Olalla knew that while his efforts had been made, he wasn't going to be able to do this alone, even with The Pitt's help, even with Vale's help, the jungle wasn't going to regrow itself in time for use. The Pitt needed this jungle, and perhaps the jungle needed The Pitt, and without it his people would go hungry. Homeless. Hopeless. And without hope, breeds desperation; and desperation is a dangerous thing.

Finally meeting Vale with a frustrated gaze, spiderwebs streaking his face, Olalla settled down beside the 3 eyed mess and removed the thinned hide from his mouth and spread it across a flat-ish rock that jutted out from the chaparral. "Right," he began, gesturing toward the large tree that would hold as almost a sort of support beam and base for the post. "This thing needs to be invisible to the untrained eye, Vale." The beast would go on to explain the structure of the post, supplies needed, items within it, the usual sort.