The creature lifts his head and looks at me patiently, not making a sound. He blinks slowly. I chew on my lip. "A name, a name, a name," I murmur. I start going through names, but all I get are the names of fellow T-LOOT-Dians and Guthrie Harper. Not so helpful. Jay, Adrien, Vladimir, Karla, Karly, Kayla, Sasha, Sparkles, Guthrie Harper, the list goes on. Rosemary shows up, along with spinach, carrots, and dandelions. I groan as my head falls into my hands. What on earth do I name him? Who knew this could be so hard! Am I supposed to name him after a vegetable? I wouldn't hear the end of it! Wait. What if... "Do you have a name?" I murmur. The creature looks at me steadily, his eyes not saying anything. Not even a peep. I pout at him, giving him a half-hearted glare though I smile a moment later. "Fred? Bob? I hope not Bear. Charlie? I don't know. Hunter? Jasper? Come on. You gotta give me something." I trace letters in the dust.

I give up. I've gone through a couple dozen names, and all of them sound stupid. The creature hasn't shown any expression other than the blank one he's been wearing ever since the Wasteland guards left. I pace around the perimeter of the cell. My hand absentmindedly rubs against the bruise on my cheek. I feel the sharp bite of its sting. The creature tilts his head to the side as I drop down so I'm sitting a foot or so away from him. I look at him, craning my head until I'm eye to eye with him. "Come on, give me any answer. I'm not picky. Do you have a name?" I watch the creature closely, searching for any sign of an answer. My finger traces over the letters again and again. They become clearer; dark grey stone against pale dust. "I'm gonna guess that you don't?" I ask, hoping I'm right. The creature's expression changes. Now he's frowning at me. Now I have to guess his name... "You do?" I murmur. The creature sighs, and rests his head on his paws. He looks disappointed in me. If only he could speak... Then he could just tell me his name.

I look down at the letters. Well, they're a little misshapen, so they're not quite letters any more. They sort of look like a... What do they look like? I'm not entirely sure. The outline of the letters looks a little like some sort of animal; there's a tail, some giant legs with little forelimbs, and horns, no, spikes perhaps running down the back. I frown, looking at it for several long seconds. Then it clicks. "Oh, now I'm thoroughly an idiot. It looks a bit like a T-rex," I say as I let my head fall into my hands with a smile. I chuckle softly before turning back to the creature. T-rex? Just Rex? I try both names under my break a few times. Rex sounds better. "How does Rex sound?" The creature lifts his head, a smile spreading across his face.

"Rex it is." I smile as well.

xxxx

Days tick by, each one longer and more boring than the previous one. The Wasteland guards haven't shown up, nor has anyone shown up to deliver food. At first, I was hopeful that someone had just forgotten about me, but now I'm sure it wasn't a mistake. With my stomach rumbling and my mouth as dry as the Wasteland, my mind is all over the place. I can't focus on much of anything. I groan and sit down, leaning against the wall. I've only done a few laps around the cell, and my legs already feel exhausted. Rex lays down beside me, his head in my lap. His eyes show that he's feeling just as bad as me. It's "only" been a few days, and his fur has lost the sheen it held before. I stroke his back. "I know, I know. I feel it too, Rex. Believe me. They're trying to make us weaker and more desperate so we'll give up information. It's never going to happen though; I'd rather die than give anything up, and I'll keep fighting them until my last breath and my last drop of blood." Rex looks up at me, and his expression tells me he feels the same way.

My head is spinning in circles like someone put me on a merry-go-round with a jetpack attached to it and told me to hang on tight. I'm floating on clouds, a million miles off the ground and still going up. My tongue feels like sandpaper in my mouth. Water, oh, water, how I took you for granted before. I really do love water. Water tastes like nothing, but I'm, like, sixty percent water. So what percent water am I now? Fifty? More? Less? I don't know. Fifty seems awfully low. It's probably wrong. Oh, and food... I do love you as well. I wonder how long they'll try to starve me before they show up. They wouldn't starve me to death, would they? They want answers which I have, but I'm not going to give them up. Would they really starve me to death? My stomach rumbles. The Wasteland guards would have to be stupid to let me die though they could do that. I'd like to say I would rather die than give up information about T-LOOT-D, but I'm so hungry, and I really want to eat something. I've never been a particularly picky eater, but now I'm even less so.

"Rex, when are we going to get out of here?" I murmur. I don't expect much of an answer. My eyes are focused on the ceiling, looking at every nook and cranny. Rex looks up, lifting his head, but doesn't make any noise. For someone who is that attack-first-ask-questions-later type of creature, I'm surprised at how quiet he is.

The door to my cell opens, and Rex is suddenly not so silent. He's snarling and on his feet in an instant. I get up to stand next to him. I feel the effects of not eating or drinking for a few days immediately; the lightheadedness, my legs complaining at the exertion, and the strong desire to sit back down again. A Wasteland guard stands near the entrance. He holds a platter in his hands. My mouth waters- there's food and a glass with a pitcher of water. A whole pitcher of water! He must be up to something... When they brought food and water before, it was just a glass of water and a piece of bread with some soup-like thing. There's an entire loaf of bread, a pitcher of water, and what appears to be a steak or something. Oh. Ha! They're attempting to bribe me. I narrow my eyes. "So, Hawk, here's the dealio: you answer some questions, and you get everything on this platter. I'm not trying to trick you or anything. It's that simple. Alright?"

No, thank you though. But I'm so hungry and thirsty... It wouldn't hurt to answer a few, right? NO! I can't do the to T-LOOT-D! It'll endanger them so much more than they already are right now! Who knows how many are dead and what state they're in. Who knows if the yellow base still stands? But I want the food... I can, like, feel my stomach rumbling all the time, 24/7. Strength is seeping from me- I'm getting weak. I need the food. No, imagine what'll happen to T-LOOT-D if I tell them anything- the Wasteland guards will go march over to wherever they are, and slaughter them, torture them, whatever Guthrie Harper says. Remember that what Guthrie Harper says is practically the law? Whatever Guthrie Harper says goes. Yes, but-. Don't say 'but I'm so hungry' I want food too, but I can't do that to T-LOOT-D. If you say that you want food, I'll... I'll, like, slap you or something.

"So, Hawk, are you ready?" The Wasteland guard asks, adjusting his grip on the platter. I don't say anything. "Yes? No?" He presses. I still don't reply. Rex looks like he's about four seconds from going for the Wasteland guard's jugular. His orange eyes continue blaze like an unchecked wildfire. Do I speak? It feels like if I did, I'd be submitting to them a little. "I'm going to take that as a 'yes.' So, this is going to be pretty easy: I ask a question, and you answer it. Alright? Good, good. You've heard the first question many times, but I'll refresh your memory. Who is the leader of The Loyal Order of Thorny Devils?"

I think for a minute, battling it out with the two sides of my mind. I won't tell him anything. I won't do that to T-LOOT-D. But there's food, and you need it. I still don't... I-I-I'm not going to submit to them. You could lie without lying- answer their question honestly, but don't tell the truth if that makes any sense? Or I could just not answer the questions... I might give something up that I didn't realize I'd given up. That would be extremely bad. But just look at that steak! And the pitcher of water! The bread... So, so, so mouthwatering. No! Stop it... I've made my decision, and I'm not going to tell them anything. Whether it's telling the whole truth, an honest answer that's mostly a lie, words twisted into a partial truth, or a flat out, complete lie, I'm not answering them. I won't give them that kind of satisfaction, and I'm not rolling onto my back to show my stomach and neck in an act of submission. Whatever you say, Hawk.

"Haaaaawk!" Sings the Wasteland guard. He must've said something while I wasn't paying attention. I blink, and I'm back to reality. I raise my eyebrows in a silent question. "Are you going to answer because I'm still waiting. Holding this platter with this cool water, warm bread, and juicy steak cooked to perfection is getting to be pretty tiring. Let me remind you that the sooner you answer my questions, the sooner you get to eat all of this." I nod. I most definitely agree with him, and my stomach is complaining at my decision, but I won't be swayed by a tasty looking bribe. But it does look awfully tasty, and you said it was a -and I quote- tasty looking bribe. No. No matter what they throw at me, I will refuse to break. I will remain strong.

The Wasteland guard hangs around for a while longer, trying to convince me to say something, but I remain tight-lipped. Several, I guess I really mean, like, a dozen or so, attempts later, and he hasn't made any progress, and I think both of us are getting a bit bored. "Well, Hawk, it was nice knowin' ya," He says. He smiles as he walks away. The platter goes with him. I frown, but then footsteps echo against the stone walls. My heart drops a little though I keep my expression neutral as three Wasteland guards walk in: the one who's got tree trunks for arms, the one with every weapon you can imagine strapped somewhere across his body, and the skinny one. Rex snarls a ferocious roar. "Hello there, Hawk. Fancy meeting you here," The skinny Wasteland guard purrs. Yeah, for sure. It wasn't as if we just so happened to cross paths or anything. Last I checked, I'm still being held hostage here by you. "I've a question for you, and I'm only going to ask it once." The Wasteland guard with tree trunk arms murmurs. Rex's tail lashes from side to side as he jumps to growl at each Wasteland guard. "Ready, Hawk?" He asks. Yeah, sure. Whatever. 

Thank you for reading this chapter! I really appreciate it! Hopefully you enjoyed it, and please comment and consider a vote. It would make my day if you clicked the little star in the corner of my screen. 

Is Rex truly Hawk's Blended form?

What are the Wasteland guards going to do to Hawk?

What's going to happen to Hawk?

Do you have any predictions as to how the rest of the book is going to go down?

-Werewolf14-