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.*･｡. HOOD! .*･｡.
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009.
MADNESS TAKES ITS TOLL.
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    "Loxely!"

   She slowed down, turning on her booted heel. Her brow was arched and her gaze travelled around the hallway, searching for someone who was searching for her. When she caught sight of them, Robin frowned; "Reyes?"

    "You're with me, today." The older girl explained as she caught up with the younger, now in line. "Sinclair changed schedules. We're up in factory station."

   Robin nodded, slowly.

   She knew factory station, and she knew Sinclair changed schedules probably so that it made her life harder than it needed to be, but she didn't know why she was put with Raven Reyes. They worked together— sure, but they rarely ever spoke. Usually Raven was arguing with Kyle Wick, or sneaking her boyfriend Finn into mechanics so that they could chat on the job. Other than that, Raven didn't speak to Robin, and Monty. Or, maybe it was that Robin didn't ever try to talk to Raven. Monty Green was just a quiet kid, anyway. Plus, Raven was focused on Zero-G mechanics, whereas Robin was undertaking engineering. She supposed that Sinclair made it clear he wanted his apprentices to mingle — he seemed to believe it would help strengthen each other's skills, or something.

    "Right," Robin said. "Cool, thanks."

    "Nothing you haven't done, before." Raven shrugged, "C'mon, it'll be fun."

   She scoffed, "When has factory station ever been fun?"

    "Since that girl got locked up for being a second child; now that was a total scandal," Raven replayed the memory in her head. It had been hot news for at least three weeks. Noticing the lack of response, she sighed. "Do you ever smile? Or, I dunno— laugh?"

    Robin rolled her eyes. She was a grumpy sixteen year old, Raven wasn't all that wrong, but that was because there wasn't much to smile about. Maybe she wasn't so grumpy as she was emotionless. There were better things do. Like, for example, stealing. That was all that was on Robin's mind as they walked past the rich kids who were on their way to alpha. Her fingers twitched.

    "You any good with radios?" Raven asked.

    "I suppose."

    "Good enough for me," the girl nodded.

    "What do factory need with radios?" Robin would have thought radios to be a better asset to Go-Sci.

    "Something about the guard not being able to communicate with the shitty ones they got," was the explanation Raven had repeated from Sinclair. "Go-Sci won't let us have more materials."

    "How are we gonna make radios, then?" Robin was confused.

    "Wait and see, kid." Her words made Raven's face light up with a smirk, a look so poignant that Robin didn't think she would ever forget it. Raven lightly shook the tool box in her hand and they listened to the contents clank around the inside, "It's never impossible to make a radio. All you need is some wires and a decent frequency, and some sort of starter with enough power, and boom: you've got yourself a radio." Noticing Robin's peaked interest, Raven nodded her head in the direction of factory station, "C'mon, I'll show you."

• • •

   Robin glanced over at a groaning Jasper and sighed, clicking her fingers in Monty's face. She awaited some sort of response that she didn't even get, and rolled her eyes. He was too busy looking at the dying boy in the corner.

"Monty," she said. "Monty! Hey!"

Said boy jumped, nearly dropping the wristband in his hand. He looked at her with parted lips, taken aback and quite embarrassed.

His cheeks went a bright red colour, "Sorry..."

Opting not to say anything, Robin took the wristband from him and began fiddling around with the mechanics of it. He had been trying to figure it out since the day prior, but he hadn't much luck; it had been early morning when he had decided to seek out Robin for extra help, whom had spent most of her night stripping rooftop panels and ripping useless wires out of motherboards. Turns out, a whole load of nothing had been achieved, since their group had left to find Jasper, in the ways of communications. Monty had tried his luck at using Octavia's wristband, but that hadn't gotten them any closer to their desired outcome; in fact, Monty's own words were: it did nothing, we are so screwed. It seemed that the wristbands had been programmed to lose power as soon as they were removed — that'd made Robin scowl.

   Why had Sinclair made them so difficult? He knew they would all need a radio, if the landing was rough. Robin would have hoped it was easier than how engineering had made it. Was it wishful thinking?

   Although she had scavenged for scrap parts more times than she was able to count on two hands soon enough, Robin didn't feel the urge to give in, or admit defeat. She was going to keep rummaging until she found something — anything — useful. The teenagers had only been on the ground for a matter of days. She hadn't searched everything. Robin couldn't have.

There had to be something.

Maybe she just hadn't found it, yet.

Sinclair wouldn't have sent her down, empty-handed. That much, Robin was certain. He seemed adamant that she would know what to do. She trusted him, and she trusted the brains in engineering; a lot of geniuses worked, there. They had made the wristbands, and it had been them who repaired the dropship. It was almost entirely impossible for Sinclair to instil so much hope within Robin, if he'd no plan already mapped out in his mind. One Robin was plausibly able to figure out by herself, and then actually execute. And, despite how much Robin didn't want to think about her father during their time down there, she knew that the man wouldn't have been willing to ship her to earth if he didn't think the same.

   Lips pursed, Robin stared down at the wristband a little longer.

   A loud groan sounded and she huffed, slamming it down with an angry clang! She couldn't concentrate — not with goggles boy, over in the corner.

   He had been moaning and grunting in pain all night. While that wasn't his fault, more so the fault of the grounders who had strung him up as bait after impaling his chest with a spear, Robin was still struggling to deal with his audible pain, nonetheless. She knew that the kid couldn't help it— but, that didn't make it any less irritating.

   With the pain remaining in her shoulder when she tried to lie on her back combined with the pain in her ass that was Jasper's noises of near-death, Robin hadn't been able to sleep much, at all. Not to mention the indescribable need to find a way of communicating as soon as they could. All of that wrapped up in one made Robin the last person asleep, in camp, and the first person awake. Upon Finn requesting her presence on behalf of Monty, Robin had asked the likelihood of working on the wristbands on a different level to where Jasper was currently dying rather loudly.

   Her offer had been politely, and impressively quickly, declined by Monty. He wanted to keep an eye over Jasper as he worked; Robin found that understandable — he was Monty's best friend. Plus, she wouldn't particularly trust Clarke Griffin with her life, either.

   Robin still hadn't let the blonde near her shoulder with a ten-feet barge pole, nor did she ever plan on it.

But, she was just stubborn.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Robin looked at Monty. "Are you?"

She wasn't sure whether she really cared, but she asked anyway; it looked like the appropriate thing to do, even though she thought the question seemed stupid and unhelpful. Robin wasn't a stranger to social etiquette, she knew it was polite to ask. Sure, already knew the answer, but it was still polite. And, honestly, Monty was okay. It was true that Robin liked him, well enough. He was pretty alright.

So, while the dying kid may have been driving her completely up the wall, she was aware that Monty's general well-being depended on his survival.

That meant Robin needed to play nice. Jasper may have been a lost cause, and he may have been making her attempts at focusing on communications an awful lot harder, but he mattered to Monty Green. Thus, in a weird way, she supposed he mattered to her, too; a liability or not, Robin didn't want him to die. She, like the rest of the camp, only wanted him to shut up.

"I guess," Monty shrugged.

"He's gonna be fine," she told the boy. Her eyes flickered over to Jasper — whom had gotten considerably paler, and much sweatier.

Robin was in no fit position to be making promises.

There was no way that she could tell Monty his friend would live through his fight with death. Usually, Robin would never dream of making such a promise. She wasn't god. She didn't get to make the big decisions.

It wasn't up to Robin, who lived and who died. Truthfully, Robin hoped she would never have to make those decisions. But, there was something about the look on Monty's face... that look... like he had lost all sense of hope. It was one that made her gut twist. Maybe it wasn't Robin's reputation that symbolised hope, but it was the hood's.

And, as her fingers brushed the fabric of her jacket that had now pooled at the nape of her neck when she moved to adjust it, Robin Loxely realised that lying may not have been the worst thing. Not in that moment, at least. Perhaps lying to Monty was doing more good than harm. She knew that lying could hurt — Robin had seen most of the damage lying could do in the form of her father caring little for her, when she was sent to the skybox — but, as she looked from the metal wristband and up at Monty Green's hopeless face, Robin realised that potentially lying to him was far better than telling him the truth. Maybe she would learn to regret that later, or maybe she would live to repeat the offence. She had never been the poster girl for telling the truth — but lying wasn't criminal and, if it proved to save Monty Green's feelings in the short term, was it all that bad? It seemed not.

"Thanks," Monty's lip twitched. It wasn't a smile, but it showed he appreciated the efforts. He paused, "Do you think we'll contact the ark? Like— can we actually do it?"

Robin looked at Jasper once again, shrugging.

"We don't have choice."

He took her answer with a lone nod. It wasn't the answer Monty had hoped for, but he would take anything, at this point.

As his lips parted to speak, they slammed shut as the pair of teen engineers were interrupted by the hatch opening with a squeak! and a slam! Their eyes darted over to the ladder, and Monty grew tense until he confirmed that they weren't being threatened by grounders; he had been paranoid, since watching Jasper get speared — which was rather justified.

Robin, on the other hand, barely flinched. She felt her eyes roll a mile when the new arrival finally spoke up, did she ever have a day off?

"She's right."

"You bet I am, blondie." Robin said.

"Any progress on using the wristbands to contact the ark?" She tried to catch Robin's gaze, but upon failing, Clark sighed. Robin's lip were sealed shut. Instead, she looked over at the boy. "Monty?"

   He grimaced and avoided eye contact, blowing a puff of air into his cheeks before answering; "Well..." her face dropped as he gave a slow shake of his head, and Monty suddenly felt even worse than he already had done, "...it would be a firm no."

   Ignoring the silence that smothered them as Clarke settled down beside Jasper's wriggling form, Robin clicked her tongue. She shut her eyes briefly when he groaned under the pressure of the wetted rag Clarke had pressed against his wound. It banged around in her head and she snappily snatched the wristband, mood well and truly dampened further by the princess showing her face. But, Robin let it drop back to the ground and winced when her shoulder jolted at an uncomfortable angle. She inhaled deeply and let it out through her nose, clutching her bicep.

   Clarke noticed.

    "You shouldn't be using that arm," she told her. "I said that you need to keep it elevated; what you need is a sling to—"

    "What I need, is for you to give me a break." Robin shot Clarke a nasty look, watching as the girl's lips snapped closed. She held her arm over her head and ignored the painful click! the joints made, as well as the disgruntled face the blonde girl was now sporting. Tight smiled, Robin bit; "Ya happy, princess?"

"It could have torn ligaments," Clarke said.

"So?"

"So— you won't have a working shoulder if you don't stop it and listen to me," she sounded tired, and much less argumentative than Robin expected.

Robin carefully lowered her arm. She rolled her eyes childishly, a mumble of mean words on the very tip of her tongue.

"If you let me look at it—"

"My shoulder is fine, Negative Nancy."

A moment passed, where Clarke looked ready to object. Robin's shoulder was on her mind. Dislocated shoulders could have nasty consequences, and she was concerned that Bellamy mightn't have put it back into place correctly. She didn't doubt that he learned to do so during training for the guard — or, so he had said — but the fact that she hadn't done it made Clarke itch. Knowing Robin and her dislike towards herself and Wells, however, made Clarke think twice about it: Robin clearly didn't want her anywhere near her, let alone her injuries. Clarke doubted it would have ended well if they arranged for her to do it. Actually, Clarke had a feeling it would've ended terribly.

    "I would listen if you wanna keep two arms, Loxely." Finn.

    "I would shut your mouth if you wanna live, spacewalker." She spat back, and watched him climb the ladder. "We got us a deal?"

   He rolled his eyes softly, the fluid motion eerily similar to Robin's own, and in that moment they replicated one another to a level of questionability. Clarke and Monty eyed one another from over the sleeping Jasper, did Robin and Finn know each other? Their gazes didn't dwindle as Finn responded;

    "Deal."

   Finn walked over to her and sat down, crossing his arms to hold his knees, ankles left over right. Robin told him to stop blocking all the light and so he shuffled closer to Clarke.

    "The grounders cauterized the wound," the blonde inspected it closer as she wiped away the fresh blood and oozing puss. Brows in a knot, Clarke tried to explain why they would even do such a thing but she just came up empty-handed. "Saved his life..."

    "Saved his life, so they could string him up for live bait." Maybe Finn was sleep deprived like the rest of them were, or still reeling from the state they had found Jasper in the day before, but he was grumpier this morning. Then again, Robin had never seen him so early except for their classes back on the ark. Perhaps this was very normal for him. "Garden of Eden this ain't!"

   Clarke sucked at her teeth, "This is infected."

   While Robin was an engineer cross mechanic, she knew that the words this is infected were never good.

   She paused.

   Watching closely, Robin observed as Clarke tried her best to do what she could for the poor boy. He was sick. They could see it in his face.

   He was pale, cheeks tinged green, and his body shook with every groan. Jasper resembled every one of the kids that the hood had set out with the intention to help — the kids she stole medicines for, in hopes of helping them hold on a little longer. Jasper needed meds.

   It made her feel queasy; they couldn't get any. Robin couldn't go and swipe any from medical. On the ground, there was no medical.

    "How's he doing?"

   For the first time, Robin noticed how she wasn't the only one who seized up in anger when Wells Jaha entered the dropship. She was aware that Clarke and Wells were no longer the dynamics duo that they used to be — they all knew, it was hard not to when she was a raging bitch towards him — but Robin had assumed that it was all just a lover's quarrel. But, as he crouched beside her and Clarke let out an angry huff and snapped at him, she realised just how much their friendship had been damaged. Robin wondered what caused it, and why whatever it was couldn't have happened before they had gotten her sent to juvenile lock up.

    "How does it look like he's doing, Wells?" Clarke hissed.

    "Hey— I'm just tryna help," he said.

    "Right," she stewed in her thoughts. "Ya wanna help? Hold him down," she instructed when he nodded, and turned to grab a knife while Wells did as told.

   His hands settled on Jasper's legs and Finn moved to hold down his torso, meanwhile Robin slowly placed aside the wristband and spared a look at Monty. He himself had gotten pale, as pale as the dying boy, and he watched as Clarke heated her knife over the hot coals that kept Jasper warm, his gaze anxious. "I'm not gonna like this, am I?"

————

   Robin Loxely had never smelled burnt flesh before, let alone up close and so strongly.

    "You gotta hold him still!"

   As Jasper yelled in pain, Robin retched again. Her eyes watering and stomach twisting, she tried to hold her breath and count to an even number above ten, but she lost track whenever he cried. That smell was unlike anything she had ever smelled, before; overbearing, overwhelming. It smelled like death. Robin gagged.

Monty looked worse than she did, like he might pass out. While Robin had never been one for a blood, the smell and sight of that infected skin was a whole new level. She could only imagine how Monty was feeling — he was as soft as a flower petal, after all, and when he swayed she feared he may genuinely hit the dropship floor in a mess of limbs. A part of her wanted to move to him, but her shifting gut told her otherwise. So, Robin say very still and tried to focus on the wires she was plaiting together in her hands. Robin had long since forgotten about the wristband. She couldn't find an inch of herself that could ignore Jasper's guttural screams. Perhaps she didn't care about these kids much, but she still had a soul. Poor kid, really.

"I need to cut away the infected flesh," Clarke explained to the room of peaky faces. "I know what I'm doing, okay? My mom—"

"—isn't here!" Robin snapped, "Hurry up!"

   If the comment hurt Clarke any more than usual, she didn't let it show. Rather, she proceeded to cut away at the flesh with the hot knife in her hand.

   It was barbaric. At least, it felt that way. But as much as she hated Clarke Griffin, Robin knew that she was trying to save Jasper's life, and in the only ways she knew how. Robin wasn't a genius, but she had learned her fair share of things from swiping medical supplies; stopping the infection from spreading further wouldn't save him as well as medicine would, that much was obvious, but it would slow it down until they found something with anti-biotic properties.

   Robin's eyes flickered to the substance Clarke was pulling off the wound — she had mentioned a poultice that the grounders placed onto Jasper's injury. Her brows furrowed as she stared at it and her irises filled with recognition.

    "Stop it!"

   A body came flying up from the hatch, and threw themselves by Jasper's head. "You're killing him!"

    "She's trying to save his life," Finn told Octavia.

   She seemed uncertain. Nonetheless, Octavia slowly let go of the arm of Clarke's that she had latched onto, and opted for stroking a soft pattern on Jasper's temples. When she nodded, Clarke went to continue. But they both jolted as another voice sounded from over by the ladder's hatch.

    "She can't," Bellamy decided.

    "Back off," Wells warned as he stood, squaring his shoulders.

   Another one of those thoughts passed Robin's mind; the thought that Wells Jaha could take Bellamy Blake to the ground, if he were to ever try. The height difference was somewhat laughable when it was displayed on solid ground. Perhaps Jaha would find his fight if Bellamy ever pushed him enough. Or, maybe not. Jaha Junior had a massive thing against violence. She wondered where that opinion had been when he had struck her over the head and given her one of the worst concussions of her life. To Robin, it was clear that the boy had substance — more than he ever showed. He just opted to be the chancellor's perfect son. Even on the ground, where his dad had sent him to die without a care in the world. When would Jaha realise that he needed to cut the persona? He wasn't a minion. He was a criminal, like they were, and acting like his father would surely get him killed, down there.

    "We didn't drag him through miles of woods just to let him die, Bellamy." Clarke spoke stoically, which was true.

    "Kid's a goner," Bellamy deadpanned. It made Robin glance up at him with narrowed eyes, her tongue pressed against her cheek, a dirty expression upon her face. He ignored all of the stares he got, "If you can't see that? You're deluded. He's making people crazy."

    "Wouldn't be the only one," Robin said.

   Bellamy spared her a glance from his peripheral, evidently much less appreciative of the snarky remark than the others in the room; Monty sent her a grateful glance.

    "Sorry if Jasper's an inconvenience to you, but this isn't the ark. Down here, every life matters." Clarke ignored the glares set on her back from the self-proclaimed leader of camp. Her words stopped him temporarily, as if he questioned whether he was acting like the system that ruined him and screwed him over time and time again in the past, before he shook his head and cleared his throat, fixing his glare.

    "Take a look at him."

    "Bell—"

    "He's a lost cause," he said.

    "Octavia..." after a silence, Clarke analysed the crestfallen look on his sister's face. "I have spent my whole life watching my mother heal people," she nodded softly at the slightly younger of the girls. "If I say there's hope, then there is hope."

    "This isn't about hope, it's about guts." Voice gruff, Bellamy spit his words with more venom. Perhaps there was something about it that rubbed him the wrong way — the way Octavia listened to the blonde in that moment, but didn't listen to him. She used to always listen to him, "You don't have the guts to make the hard choices. I do." He planted his hands on his hips, "He's been like this for three days. If he's not better by tomorrow, I'll kill him myself." It created a tension that lapsed over them, and Bellamy shrugged off the icy glares while he turned back to the ladder. He jutted his jaw over at his sister, "Octavia, c'mon. Let's go,"

   She shook her head bluntly, "I'm staying here."

   Bellamy looked ready to say something, but decided against it at the last second. Instead, he grabbed the ladder and headed down.

    "Power-hungry, self-serving jackass!" Monty snapped, watching the man leave and hoping he heard. "He doesn't care about anyone but himself!"

   Octavia pursed her lips.

    "...no offence."

    "Yeah— Bellamy is all that," Finn spoke. "But he also happens to be right."

   Robin wasn't surprised at his words, unlike Clarke. Since landing on earth, Finn Collins had proved himself to be a liability. Not like the way Jasper was with almost dying, but with his opinions — Finn liked to chop and change what he thought with the tide. He hadn't wanted them to die with no food or supplies, but he didn't want to risk his life saving Jasper. He wanted to defend Clarke in her fairly questionable methods to keeping Jasper alive, but he had defended Bellamy in thinking Jasper had no hope. As far as Robin could tell, she never wanted to trust Finn with a secret. He was so busy trying to play peacekeeper and moral compass, that he was kicking down his alliances in favour for the other every time he opened that damn mouth of his. Robin didn't know his stance, yet.

   She rolled her eyes at the stare off between Clarke and Finn, the tension not half as amusing with Wells watching intently, and then decided there were too many people up on that level for her liking.

   Her gaze fell upon Monty, briefly.

   Something in her gut twisted, and Robin found herself standing from her seat position. She grunted as she used her bad arm to go.

   It gained Clarke's attention when she wobbled, the blonde going to speak after leaving her intense gaze with Finn. She stopped with no words spoken, however, due to the sharp glare and knock to the shoulder she received as Robin steadied herself with her palm and swiftly passed by.

    "Where are you going?"

    "Green, work on those wristbands." Robin ignored the question from Wells, "There's gotta be a way to contact the ark."

    "What if I can't do it?" He asked, watching her head over to the ladder and climb down the first few rungs with a grimace from the pain in her shoulder. Monty rubbed his face, "You're better at this, than I am."

    "I'm better at mechanics; you aced electrics."

    "Robin—"

    "Get it done, ya hear me?"

    "Yeah," Monty nodded with a soft sigh. "Yeah— I hear you."

    "You got this," Robin assured, her voice softer than any of them had ever heard her, but it was gone as she disappeared to the level below with a swift jump.

   Her boots landed with a thump! and her knees bent to soften their impact. Robin brushed herself off and rolled out her shoulder, the swelling making it stiff and sore, but she ultimately ignored any of the pain she felt from it when her brain started to ponder if Clarke had been right about needing a sling. Scowling, Robin scolded her own thoughts. Clarke Griffin was a lot of things, but right wasn't an opinion that Robin would pick first. She didn't need a sling; Robin was fine.

   She peered around, then up at the hatch, and nodded to herself when she found no one watching her. Robin squeezed her fist in a tight ball and stalked out of the dropship, after patting her pocket, feeling her knife firmly at her side. Eyes steady, she peered around.

    "John!"

   Two boys twirled around, and Robin stuck her middle finger up at the one she hadn't been looking for. Mbege rolled his eyes at her.

    "Robin Hood," Murphy smirked.

    "I'm leaving camp," she said blankly, although her lips twitched at the corner. He noticed and his eyes twinkled for a second, but it dulled at her words. "You're coming with me— c'mon."

    "Ah— no can do, Rob." He shrugged his shoulders and pushed out his arms, gesturing to the whole of camp. "The king left me in charge,"

    "Willingly?"

   He scoffed, "Fuck you."

   Robin licked her lips, resisting a small smile.

    "Why don't you take Williams?" Murphy jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, and Robin followed the movements to where a boy in a scarlet jacket was tying wood together like an expert. She raised both brows, momentarily impressed, but she shook her head when she thought about it.

    "Nah— Jace isn't my kinda company," Robin denied.

    "And, I am?"

    "Good point; forget I asked."

A low chuckle passed his lips, quiet and secretive. If the others in camp saw how different he could be around Robin when she said the right things, compared to how he was around the rest of them, it would surely tarnish his reputation. But John Murphy and Robin Loxely went back farther than his bad reputation did; it meant lots more to him, too. Not that he would admit it.

"Y'know— I'm not supposed to let anyone leave camp," he gave her a shrug.

"Says who? Blake?"

"Yup."

"Screw him," Robin didn't care for it.

She didn't follow anyone's orders; not the ark's, or Bellamy's, or Clarke's. Robin was her own woman. Hell— Robin was the hood! It was her own way, or the damn highway.

"I would stop you—" Murphy called as she span on her heel to leave, peering over her shoulder to see what he had to say before it was too late and she had already left around the back of the camp. "—but I know you'll just find some other way of leaving, 'cause you sneak around for a living." He rolled his eyes as she smiled, halted in her step. Murphy waved a hand in the other direction carelessly, although his cheeks ached from fighting a grin. "If ya gonna leave, at least be courteous and use the door— alright? Spent ages on it."

Robin saluted and slipped past him, heading for the camp gates that were still being put up.

As she went, Robin looked down at her fist. She carefully opened her hand and flattened her palm. Her thumb brushed over the red plant poultice that she had swiped from the floor beside Clarke, an already formed plan dancing around her pretty head. It wasn't lots of the stuff, but it was enough for her plan to work.

Perhaps Robin couldn't call the shots— she wasn't god.

Robin Loxely couldn't make the decisions on who lived and who died, but she could try and make a difference. She could do what it was she had been doing for years: no one was stopping Robin from finding a way to save Jasper's life, just as she had done for all those people on the ark. There was no medical bay, but there was a wide world out there that they had yet to explore. They were like mecha and the grounders were like alpha — they had kept Jasper alive for long enough that the campers had been able to find him. If Robin could get out there and find a way, then she was going to do it. She may not have particularly cared about Jasper, but she liked Monty; she couldn't let his friend die. Plus, what kind of heroine would she be if she let an innocent kid die?

That was against everything Robin had stood for, on the ark. The hood would never have let him die. This may have not been the ark anymore, but she was still the figure those kids had once looked up to. Robin still had her hood, and she still had those responsibilities.

Morals didn't die.

She tugged her hood over her head and walked on, steps fluid as she moved through the greenery. Robin was on a mission — it was just like old times, minus the ark and plus the forest.

 
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