I'm not entirely sure what it is, so I get up and walk over to the opposing wall. My fingers trail across the jagged stone. Up close, the design is much clearer, and I find myself looking at six misshapen triangles painted upon the stone that almost look they were once mimicking a camera's shutter, but had been moved around and curved until they became something new. Each one is colored with a dull green that fades into black, with the black part at the center of the painting. I trace over one of the triangles with a finger. "What is this? What do you think, Rex?" I murmur. He rises to his paws and joins me, standing up on his hind legs to look at the design. Why is it here? It isn't as if someone who was here before me painted this on the wall; the Wasteland guards wouldn't have let them have the paint or let it get to them in the first place, and, even if it was somehow painted here, it would've been taken down long ago. "Whatcha thinkin', Rex?"

"It's Guthrie Harper's symbol." My head snaps to the side to look at the hallway, and I look around. Where was the voice coming from? They really need to invest a bit of time and resources into a better lighting system. "Across from you." There's the voice again. I narrow my eyes as I look at the cell across from mine, and I can just make out a figure standing in the middle. They appear to be a girl, though it looks as though they're halfway transformed into a bird. Black feathers are mixed in with her hair, talons are on her toes instead of toenails, and her arms are partially wings. Long, black feathers hang from her forearms and upper arms. "Guthrie Harper tried to split my Blended form from me, just like he did to you, but it didn't work," she says, almost as if she read my mind. I open my mouth to respond, but I quickly force it shut. You cannot risk slipping up... Again that is.

I watch her as she moves towards the iron bars of her cell. "That symbol on your wall is on every one of these cells. I think it's Guthrie Harper attempting to tell us we can't ever escape from his grasp or something stupid like that. I just ignore it." I nod, eyeing the sharp, slashing curves of the green and black triangles. Why hadn't we ever come up with a symbol? We have a name, a leader, a system of working, a base, our mode of transportation... Sort of as we just have the Slash, and everything else, so why not a symbol? Maybe Adrien didn't want anything like that that could be caught by Guthrie Harper's Wasteland guards? We have the plaid as our unofficial color, though, so it's sort of like a symbol.

"You're from The Loyal Order of Thorny Devils, right?" She says it flatly, not much room for a question. I don't reply, something I've become more and more accustomed to over the past, well, however long it's been. Do I talk to her? She doesn't seem like she's working with Guthrie Harper, but she could be hiding that part of her. And why would she just be talking to me now when I've been here for an awful long time? To talk to her, or not to talk to her, that is the question, indeed it is so. What if I talk to her, and be very careful with what I say? There couldn't be any harm in that, could there? It would be nice to be able to talk to someone who can reply. If I'm extremely careful with what I say, it shouldn't be a problem, right? Couldn't I just talk to her?

"I know you can talk; I've heard you talking with your pet dog. If you don't want to, though, that's alright." I don't reply again. I study the wall, debating as to whether or not I should reply.

"So what's your Blended form?" I suddenly blurt out the question, wincing at how harsh it sounds.

"A condor. Yours?" Her voice is soft when she replies.

"You can see him here, but a dog. His name is Rex. What's your name? You probably already know mine, but it's Hawk." I'm rambling a bit now that I'm talking to someone who will reply. My heart races, and I fiddle with my fingers, waiting for the Wasteland guards to come rushing in or for her to twist my words and figure something out.

"Sarah. You're from T-LOOT-D, right? I heard the Wasteland guards asking you if you were." Well, that's an unfortunate question. If I say I don't want to answer, I'm basically saying I am without actually saying anything. Maybe I could just answer without directly answering the question? I mean, people have seen me fighting alongside T-LOOT-D, so all the Wasteland guards have to do is as their friends, and they'll know. "I've heard of them. You?"

"I've heard of them as well, but I've never seen them." The conversation falls silent, and we stand in our cells. Rex pads to the iron bars and sits down, looking out at the hallway. He lays down.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" Sarah asks after several minutes.

"I'm not sure." I trace over the edge of one of the triangles. The harsh edges slice their way across the stone.

"Here, take this. I haven't touched it. I ate... Yesterday, I think it was. You need it far more than me." Sarah bends down, and pushes her cup of water and food across the hallway. It stops in the middle when her arm can't stretch any further. I look at it. Rex tilts his head to the side as he examines the platter. "What do you think, Rex?" I murmur softly, kneeling by his side and placing a hand on his shoulders. I lean in close to his ears. My eyes keep straying back to the platter; there's a full cup of water, and the day-old bread is making my mouth water as my stomach growls.

"You can eat it. I swear I haven't done anything to it." Sarah walks in circles around the perimeter of her cell. The feathers on her arms rustle when she trips on a rock and stumbles forward, throwing her hands out to steady herself. A sheepish smile crosses her face as she ducks her head. I study my fingers, and remove some dirt from my fingernails. This is just too easy. Why would she be so willing to give up food and water when we don't know each other?

I debate about it in my head for several minutes, going over countless scenarios, many of which ended up in Wasteland guards swarming in with weapons drawn. Rex's gaze has become fixated on the platter, and strands of saliva hang from the corners of his mouth, dripping onto his paws. His chin rests on one of the horizontal iron bars. If I eat it and die, then that's on her. It's probably come to the point where if I don't eat that, then I'll just starve to death. That sounds pretty sad now that I think about it. You know what? Let's just go for it, and we'll see how it goes. I reach a hand out towards the platter. My arm is stretched out as far as it will go, and my cheek is pressed against one of the iron bars. "A little to your right, Hawk."

"Thanks," I reply as my fingers brush against the side of the platter.

They've just closed around the edge when footsteps thunder from down the hallway.  They're accompanied by heavy gasps for air. I snatch my hand back as if the platter had burst into flames. "What do you think you're doing, Hawk?" My heart sinks and my shoulders slump at the sound of Minotaurs booming voice. Sarah freezes. Rex moves closer to me, a low growl rumbling in his chest. I snort when the three Wasteland guards stop in front of my cell, their backs to Sarah. Well, what happened to them? It looks as if they got into a bit of a fight. Minotaur has several cuts across his arms and face to accompany a bloody nose. Blade's got a multicolored bruise that's still blooming on his cheek and a swollen black eye. That's going to last for quite some time. Twig confuses me though. He doesn't have any wounds like Minotaur and Blade do; instead of bruises or gashes, the hand Rex bit has been removed, and a metal hand has taken its place. Nails and plates of metal spread up his forearm. The skin around the plates is pink and dried blood has crusted along the metal. More metal surrounds one of his eyes, though the plates are smaller. His eye has been transformed into something not completely human, but also not completely robotic- something somewhere in between. A blinking red light flashes from within the eye every few seconds. 

 Twig's attention is focused on his cyborg hand, and he slowly moves the fingers into a fist, bit by bit, as if he's still becoming accustomed to using it. That's absolutely bizarre. Rex did bite off half of his wrist, but why not fix up that part rather than just cut off the whole thing?

"Did you really think you could just steal someone's food?" Minotaur curls his lip as he speaks. I shrug. Couldn't they just leave me alone for a while? It's not like I'm going anywhere any time soon.

"So, what happened?" I ask after a few moments of silence. Rex looks up at me with a confused look on his face.

"Ha! You talked! See? You can't keep up your little game forever, Hawk." A smile oozes across Blade's face.

"Or I just wanted to know who it was that beat you up so I could give them a high five and a congratulations," I murmur.

"I think you're so hungry and thirsty that you're not thinking straight. So tell me, is Adrien the leader of The Loyal Order of Thorny Devils?"

"So who was it? How'd you get hurt? Was it Guthrie Harper? Perhaps one of the head Wasteland guards?"

Thank you for reading! Please comment, and consider a vote!

How did the Wasteland guards get hurt?

Who was it?

Why is Twig's hand now metal, and one of his eyes partially robotic?

When will Hawk and Rex be able to eat?

-Werewolf14-