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.*･｡. HOOD! .*･｡.
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010.
GOOD KIDS DON'T
DESERVE TO DIE.
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    "You done, little bird?"

    "Give me a minute," Raven said. "And don't call me that."

"Whatever," Robin muttered under her breath. She shifted on her feet and crossed her arms, getting antsy and irritated standing still. "Look— I thought we were gonna make radios, for factory? Why am I watching you dig through a pile of garbage?"

   Raven rolled her eyes and poked her head through the door, the rest of her still hidden by the vehicle. Part of her was still irritated by the nickname Robin had given her — thanks to Nygel tainting it over the years — since she was also named after a little bird, so it seemed stupid, but Raven brushed over the minor details. While Robin Loxely was a year younger than her, she was still very good at all things mechanics and engineering; enough so, that perhaps it would have given Raven a run for her money, had she not been focusing on Zero—G as a specialty. But, Robin wouldn't be far behind in terms of brains. It hadn't taken long for her to rise through the ranks. Then again, Daniel Loxely was as much of a mechanics genius. She took after him. That was why Raven wanted to work with her in place of Monty Green, for once. Sinclair had been happy to comply with her wishes. Raven was sick of working with Kyle Wick.

    "It's not a pile of garbage, asshole."

Robin pretended to look at it, "Looks like a giant pile of garbage, to me."

"Shut up, and c'mon." Waving an arm, Raven beckoned her over. "I want you to come see somethin'."

"Seriously?" She flashed her an unamused expression. But Raven wasn't the slightest bit bothered and instead mirrored the look, to which Robin gave her an empty glare. When Raven didn't change her mind, the girl grunted but relented, unhappily trudging towards the vehicle. She slipped through the door and sat, a tight smile on her lip when the other girl simply told her to look — Robin was incredibly unamused, "Wow. More garbage-y on the inside."

"Shut up."

Robin rolled her eyes.

"Look, better." Raven demanded.

A sigh passed her lips, but she did as told. Her eyes flickered around. Robin always knew about the old pod on K—Deck. It was from the ground, one the ark had taken up to preserve as a means of replicating when they went back in the future, when it was habitable again. Really, the pod was a mechanic's best friend. Most of the scrap left on K—Deck was.

   Sinclair had her and Monty up there once or twice, getting them to learn the ins and outs of the motor. She imagined Raven had done the same. Especially being that she was specialising in Zero—G.

   Raven once said that she wanted to repair it, one day. Take it out. To Robin, it seemed like a long shot. But, if anyone could do it, it would likely be Raven.

    "I'm still seeing junk," Robin deadpanned, bluntly.

    "It's not junk; if you see it as junk, you're never gonna be good at this."

"Enlighten me."

"Shit like this is a mechanic's fairground," Raven told her.

Robin raised her brows, unimpressed. Raven sighed loudly, giving her a look that Robin felt hit her in the side of the face like a smack, and put her hands on the control panel. She fiddled around until she loosened the bolts, pulling it open to reveal a whole lot of wires. Nimble fingered, as if she could do it in her sleep, Raven began pulling different wires out of their positions, then yanked a whole fistful of them. On the end was the motherboard. Robin watched in surprise — was she allowed to do that?

"You can make a radio out of anything," Raven repeated her earlier words. "This is how we're gonna make our radios. Sometimes, you just gotta find yourself some new parts."

"What if there aren't any?" Robin asked.

"There's always parts, Loxley."

• • •

Robin whistled under her breath. It was a merry tune she swore she had heard her mother hum long ago. She jumped down from a log and thump! went her boots, hitting the dirt and mud. Peering at the red plant in her hands — it wasn't much of the stuff, only what she managed to swipe from Clarke's side —, the girl continued her way with her travels.

Perhaps it wasn't the brightest idea to head into the forest as a sole party of one. It was no secret that Jasper had been hit with a spear to the chest when he was in a group of six. But, Robin wasn't very fazed and she never really had conventionally bright ideas. She had yet to see any grounders as she walked, so she could only guess they were maybe on a lunch break? Either way, they didn't particularly scare Robin. Maybe they would when she finally — and inevitably — saw them in the flesh, but until that time actually came forward, they were no more than her imagination. And, if she were honest, her imagination wasn't all too amazing. Robin liked more tangible things; like screws and bolts, and really old scrap metal, and items with rough, jagged edges that people paid her a solid sum of cash to smooth out. In that sense she was creative, but only when it was physical. Real.

Art was never her forte; she was no Picasso.

She wasn't good at Earth Skills, either, but Robin wasn't awful at botany. That was the one part she could remember, and it was also the only parts Finn would copy from her, instead of her from him.

That was why Robin knew what the plant was the grounders had used as a poultice on Jasper's wound: seaweed. It wasn't that hard; she wondered if spacewalker had figured it out, yet. Their resident tracker, and Robin was the one to be showing him right up.

Robin recognised the plant from some of her old text books. She had noticed the lacking root structure, and the strange texture that the salt water gave it. Judging by that, and the colour, it would be a slow current water source, likely with several rocks, with water less green than red. If she remembered it rightly, Octavia Blake found herself nearly eaten by a giant snake in a water source that had to be fairly nearby, on their failed trip to Mount Weather. It wasn't so good her, but it was good for Jasper — if Robin found the water in question, then she would probably find the seaweed, and goggles boy would be on his way to recovery if it worked as well as it had done.

   She was more than simply a thief, sometimes. Robin Loxely had a brain that worked as well as the next one. Sometimes (most of the time), people tried to underestimate her. And, contrary to common belief, criminals needed brains to get away with their crimes. They were some of the smartest on the ark.

While Robin was a gifted engineer and mechanic, she was also a gifted felon; she was a dab-hand at taking things that weren't hers.

Call it talent.

   Admittedly, Robin hadn't been walking for long when she found herself falling. Her boot caught on something, hooking awkwardly, and she was sent flying a metre forwards. It was embarrassing, and despite not being one to feel humiliated very often, the girl tried to rid the blush from her cheeks as it rose up her neck. She had made a swift tilt of her body and avoided landing on her bad shoulder, a movements she felt vague pride for, but that pride soon diminished upon realising the seaweed was no longer in her palm — rather, all over the forest floor. Dammit!

   Robin scowled, deeply.

"Great..." she huffed out, in irritation.

She checked herself over quickly, patting down her body and the worst being sore knees and tiny scrapes on her palms. Otherwise, a doctor was unnecessary. Robin was perfectly fine. Luckily.

It was good that she knew what seaweed would look like, despite the botanical finding new refuge on the ground and dancing in the breeze. Robin made no effort to collect. Rather, she peered around for the culprit; she had tripped over something and there was no way it was a tree root. Her boot had gotten hooked in it, as if there was a gap, or a small ledge...

Or, a handle.

Her mouth gaped open, eyes dancing in intrigue.

Robin hoisted herself back to her feet and wasted minimal time in heading towards the, now revealed, metal handle.

As she stepped forwards, her boot made a hollow sound when it landed on a patch of earth that was different to the rest. It was less sturdy, and made a strange sound as she carefully bounced up and down — once, twice, then three times.

It creaked, and grunted, and sounded oddly metallic. Something about it made her bone tingle, and Robin crouched, fingertips fast, brushing away the dirt and other foliage, until it revealed the rusty handle, which was attached to a rusty door. A door? Not a single part of Robin's brain told her to stop and debate what she may find the other side of that door ; the girl instead reached out for the handle and carefully swung the door to. It came in an outward and then a following upward motion, and she stood from her crouch to assure she wasn't in the way. The door was quite large, one Robin hadn't recognised from anything on the ark, and lead to an empty-looking cavern below. Eyes squinted, Robin moved back to her knees in an effort — and futile attempt — at seeing what was down there. The space wasn't particularly large, and it wasn't any form of bunker, in her opinion, even if her perspective was a little off.

After deciding that no one was going to come out the cavern in a surprise attempt of ambushing them, Robin shuffled around to be seated on her bottom, legs hanging over the edge. With a push, she slipped over the edge and landed with a satisfying thump! Her knees then straightened out.

She grinned, holy fuckin' shit.

Jackpot!

"Automobile..." Robin murmured lightly, feeling a sudden and profound joy swelling in her chest. She peered about, "Automobile!"

It was a load of junk, really. Old seats, dusty interior, smog in the air and cobwebs in corners. Likelihood was, it hadn't been used in ninety-seven years.

But, if there was one thing Robin Loxely had learned on the ark, was that nothing was junk — not really. And, if it was, that wasn't as bad as it seemed. Actually, it wasn't bad at all. Junk wasn't useless; a hunk of junk like this was a mechanic's fairground and best friend.

In short, Robin was very much on cloud nine.

Her hands shook in excitement as she flitted around, scanning a watchful eye over every aspect of the interior. Robin had never seen an automobile, before — no one on the ark had, and it dawned on her that she was the first in ninety-seven years. First? She grinned to herself, not bad. Who woulda thought it'd be Robin Loxely? Not her, if she answered honestly. But she would take it, nonetheless.

Just as her fingers brushed against the dashboard, a sound above her made her head snap up to the wide open door.

It was a far voice, perhaps a few of metres away, and with only a moment's concentration, she recognised who it belonged to. Robin rolled her eyes at the lack of threat.

"Yeah— I can tell you guys are close."

Smirking at the corner of her pink lips, Robin adjusted her hood and sunk to the side of the automobile. Her back was pressed right into the wall, her hip knocking into a seat, and the girl waited until the voices was closer.

    "Woah, wait!"

    "Finn? What is it?"

    "Is that an automobile— ah!"

   Robin sprung up and watched the boy almost topple down into the vehicle alongside her, no longer stable in his crouch. She put a hand up to stop him incase he fell and crushed her on the way, an irritatingly devious smirk gracing her lips as he put his hands to his chest — evidently still shocked, heart close to stopping in his chest. Upon realising that it was a girl with a hood and not a grounder, he let his face contort into a sour frown. He rolled his eyes, "Seriously, Loxely?"

    "What? Shit a lil', spacewalker?" She wiggled her brows.

    "Why aren't you back at camp?" Clarke interrupted, appearing behind the boy, Wells Jaha on her left. She glanced between Robin and Finn, the latter now fighting a smile as he playfully shoved her shoulder, and her lips pursed. Fighting off the feeling, the blonde's eyes returned to Robin. More specifically, the fact it was only Robin who was down in the vehicle. She narrowed her stare and gave her an incredulous expression — Robin felt it, and rolled her eyes with a huff. Clarke frowned, "Did you come out here, alone?" When the other girl gave her a blunt and blank expression in return, princess of the ark shook her head and adjusted the pack on her back; "We don't have time for games."

    "Boring, princess."

    "We're tryna save Jasper," Wells defended.

    "Like true saints," Robin mocked. He went to speak again, but she shot him down. "Oh— spare me the guide-dog act, chancellor. It's old," she criticised. "What do ya think I'm tryna do, anyway?"

"Give innocent guys heart attacks?" Finn commented, dryly. He snickered when she glared and threatened to punch him in the lip.

Wells ignored their little bicker and stared at Robin, as if he had little faith she would know the first thing about knowing how to try and save someone, "How were you planning on saving Jasper? We came out looking for what the grounders used for the poultice they used on him—" he gave her a hard look, "—do you even know the stuff you're meant to be looking for?"

"Seaweed."

"Huh?"

"Seaweed; that's what I'm looking for," she repeated. Robin put her palms out and pushed herself out of the automobile, "Current is probably slow, lots of rocks, red water." She raised both brows in irritation, wiping her dirty hands on her pants.

   Wells looked embarrassed, meanwhile Finn coughed to hide the laugh through his nose, which earned him a glare. One day, Wells Jaha would stop underestimating Robin Loxely — or, perhaps not; maybe she didn't want him to. She quite liked showing him up. His ego deserved a good drop-kick. It made Robin feel smug when she proved the chancellor's son wrong, especially when it was about her or the other hundred delinquents.

    "It had antibiotic properties," she said.

    "How do you know about antibiotics?" Clarke was surprised.

    "'Cause I'm not an idiot."

   Robin took it back: she was seriously getting sick of the princess and prince and their constant need to look down at her. Assholes.

    "Swipe enough from medical, you start to understand the labels. I know what I'm looking for," her words were referencing both the seaweed and the past medical supplies she would steal. Robin had spent more time in med-bay than most of the doctors had; she was potentially more frequent a visitor than Clarke Griffin. She was no doctor, but she knew what to steal and how to steal it.

"Wasn't that bad at botany, either." Finn remarked, shrugging in a spite of his knowing smirk. "Not as good as me, but—"

"Watch your mouth, spacewalker." She warned, and swatted his arm. He yelped and rubbed the tender area but the action made it worse; she hit him, again.

"Quit screwing around," Clarke.

"C'mon princess," Finn tried to win her over.

"We need to save Jasper," she ignored the way he looked so very longingly at the automobile. Her eyes flickered to Wells, who had a tense facial expression as he watched, and rolled her eyes. Even he looked like he wanted to check it out. "Come on, guys. This thing's been here a hundred years— alright?" If she noticed Robin pull a face and mutter ninety-seven to purposely get under her skin, Clarke didn't show it. Her body remained rigid and she fixed the hold she had on her pack, glancing at the three of them. Her words were to Finn and Wells, but she supposed Robin was included now. "It can wait. Jasper can't," she turned on her heel. "Let's go, we don't have another hundred years to waste. He needs us." Then, Clarke was a figure in the near distance.

"Ninety-seven."

"Whatever..." Wells muttered, trudging after Clarke with face of thunder that gave her a solid run for her money.

"Barrel of laughs, those two." Robin stated sourly.

"Super fun— tell me about it," Finn sighed. He was finally able to breathe now that he wasn't smothered by the tension that they'd yet to not feel around Clarke and Wells. They were like boiling pots when they were together. "C'mon,"

"No thanks," she shook her head. "You can handle princess and the pea."

"What'll you do?"

"I'm gonna stick around here, for a while. See if I can scrounge for anything that'll help me and Monty with a radio to contact the ark. A lil' birdy once told me that wherever you look, you can find parts — there has to be something here that could help. I won't be far behind you. Don't pull that face at me, spacewalker — you keep on playing royal footman, and I'll find a way to make a radio. Plus, if I go with privileged one and two, I might smack 'em."

"I don't doubt that, Loxely."

"Cute," she said. "Now, get lost."

"You sure you'll be alright?" Finn looked apprehensive to leave, and it confused Robin. She had rarely seen that expression, before.

She supposed he was concerned that she would be murdered by a grounder, just like Jasper, but Robin wasn't sure why he cared. It wasn't like they were friends, or anything... were they?

"Yeah— yeah," Robin adjusted her hood and jumped down into the vehicle again. She wriggled her fingers and prepared herself to feel the familiar tingle of electricity prickle her skin, although Finn called her name and stuck his head down through the doorway — she rose a brow and turned, rolling her eyes at the sight of his hair floating around his head and his cheeks tinging scarlet with gravity dragging the blood to his skull. Still, he had the same charismatic a glow on his face. Being upside down didn't change that. Robin had her eyebrows raised, "What?"

"Don't die."

"No promises, kid."

"I'm probably older than you," he frowned.

"So?"

"So—"

"Finn!" Clarke called from afar, her voice small. "Hurry up! It's a matter of Jasper's life, here!"

Finn sighed through his nose, and sent Robin a salute. She shot a tight smile back at him and mirrored his action, but pulled her two forefingers away from her forehead and flipped him the bird in the swiftest of movements. Silvery and light, Finn laughed and ducked back out the automobile, disappearing within a matter of seconds.

Robin pursed her lips.

She looked at the dashboard, well— here goes nothin'.

————

Robin must have electrocuted herself at least eight times, before she figured she had enough wires to return to camp with. She also snagged a motherboard — absolute steal! — and a couple other old radios parts, figuring they were plenty more useful helping the large group of delinquents to contact the ark than they ever would be if they sat in that old jeep, forever. It was kinda sad tearing apart the automobile when her chest ached to patch it up and see if it would drive, but Robin wasn't a naturally optimistic girl: chances were, it wouldn't work. Or, they would all die death by grounder before Robin finished working on it. So, with mild reluctance but high eagerness to get the communications working, she opted to rifling through all the parts and shoving them into her pockets.

   When she decided that she had enough for now, Robin climbed up to the surface and brushed herself off. She could always come back — she planned on it, actually. But, until then, she had a good array of parts.

   Her eyes swept across the woods.

   Part of Robin wondered just how long she had been working in the automobile. She tended to get lost when she was in her zone, a mechanic's weakness, and it could have easily been longer than she anticipated. The sky was still brighter, so Robin decided it couldn't have been that long. Finn, Clarke and Wells wouldn't be too far, had she wanted to catch up. She had told spacewalker she would, but if she were honest, Robin didn't want to be anywhere near their royal pains in the ass. No, thanks.

    Plus, camp wasn't far away. Robin could make it back by dark if she left, now.

   That was what she intended to do as she wandered the way back that she had come, although she found herself faltering. Robin left in order to get the seaweed that would help save goggles boy's life.

   Sure, it was mostly for Monty's sake— but, still.

   And, while not much could help him more then communicating with the ark and getting him professional medical advice, she knew that his best chance of survival was the poultice the grounders had put on him. It had kept him alive, thus far. Radio parts weren't the best help to Jasper, right now. They needed that seaweed. He needed that seaweed. Monty needed his best friend.

   Robin liked Monty.

   So, she was going to get it.

   Sighing, Robin twirled on her foot and headed for the direction she could only assume the other three kids had gone. Who knew?

   Robin didn't want to catch up with them, but she wanted to find as much seaweed as she could. Even if they brought it back, it was better to have more of the stuff than less.

   And if they didn't manage to bring any back, then at least one of them would have. Robin liked the idea of showing up Jaha again as much as she liked the idea of helping save Jasper's life — just like it was, back on the ark. Showing up the rich and helping the sick. All of it felt cathartic.

It wasn't long until Robin came across a ravine. The water was a shallow lake, likely leading elsewhere, but Robin grinned when she recognised the red tint lingering upon the surface. She took off her jacket and edged closer. There was definitely some of the seaweed, and it looked to be right in the middle. She pulled her lips between her teeth and peered down at the water quite cautiously, a sudden flush of uncertainty washing over her as she stared. Despite having never seen water with her own two eyes, the stories of Octavia's leg nearly becoming dinner for a giant snake had made her hesitant to go in. Robin didn't plan on becoming dinner. She wasn't scared of an awful lot, but something about the water — most likely the slim chance of turning into fish food — made her feel all queasy inside.

But Jasper needed this; Monty needed this.

So, with a deep breath, Robin stepped into the water — boots, socks and all.

She waded out to the middle and found herself glad she took off her jacket. It reached just shy of her belly button, and would have ruined all the components from the automobile. Robin grabbed as much of the seaweed as she could.

When her hands were full, she made a beeline for dry land. The water definitely wasn't her favourite place; she was still conscious of being eaten, and she didn't like the way her socks felt wet, nor how she bobbed awkwardly with each step she took. Robin figured that she would have to get used to it, but she didn't really want to. Earth of the past had overhyped swimming, in her opinion. She ached to get out as soon as she got in.

Dry land was nice.

Her feet were firm on the floor and unwavering, and Robin now appreciated it much more than she had prior to getting in the river.

There was no way of drying out her clothes other than walking to camp and drying under the sun, on the way — which annoyed her a bit; she didn't like feeling wet. It made her grimace.

Nonetheless, Robin knelt down and stuffed the seaweed into her already full pockets as well as she could. As she did so, her eyes fell upon the ground, brows pinching together as she watched a dozen insects scurry past her in the same direction. They were running as if they were running from something. Robin frowned and stood up.

"Ew," she lifted her jacket and shook it.

A horn made her grimace.

As the bugs fell to the ground, Robin turned with intent of going back the way she was sure camp had been. However, when she did so, she was confronted with a yellow fog — it was coming from the same direction the insects had been, and Robin found herself stiff, unmoving from her spot as she watched it approach. It all felt very slow, as if time was lagging, and when it was only two metres away, she reached out a hand and let her fingers brush against it. Almost immediately, Robin yanked her hand back. Her skin stung, a small blister now forming on her index finger, and the teen looked at the burned patch of skin in horror.

She scolded herself under her breath and backed up, tripping on her own feet as she bolted. Robin had heard that phrase the curiosity killed the cat a million times, but only now had she understood what it really meant.

Robin's lung heaved as she ran. It was fastest she had ever run in her life, even when she was being chased by the guard. Hallways in the ark were small, and cramped, but earth gave her more ground to cover. She practically flew across the dirt ground. Robin had no idea she could even run this fast, but she decided not to focus on it, and instead on finding shelter from the fog creeping up behind her as she moved. If she wanted to live, then Robin would still need to go quicker.

So, she did. Robin forced her legs to pump faster.

As she stumbled over a log and landed shakily on her feet, Robin figured now would have been a good time to have memorised their route to camp. Again, Robin scolded herself. Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!

Breaths heavy, the girl adjusted her hood as it started to slip, the jacket having been forced onto her shoulders as she ran. It wasn't the best form of protection from the fog, but it was better than her skin being completely bare.

Robin burst through the tree-line and into a clearing, tripping on rocks and falling to her knees. She grunted at the pain that flared in and rolled to her bottom, scrambling to try and get back up. But she wasn't quick enough, and Robin found herself shuffling away, helplessly staring at the fog that was steadily approaching. A cough erupted from her chest as she inhaled it, pushing her face to elbow, trying to block her airways. Just when she thought she was a goner, Robin felt a set of hands slide under her arms and hoist her to her feet, and then off the forest floor altogether. A strangled shriek fell from her her lips as her body was pulled into another, although the noise burned her throat alongside the fog. The person coughed, an attempt to clear their own throat while their hands held Robin, the sound gruff and deep.

The light suddenly started to fade, stony walls encompassing the pair the further she was carried. It was then that Robin kicked into action, and realised that anyone could be carrying her. It could be a grounder! Robin could have been saved from death, only to have a more painful one in store for her! To hell would she!

Still coughing and spluttering, Robin started to struggle against the hold on her, writhing around in a fight to survive. She lifted an elbow and socked them in the face, knowing she hit her mark with precision when her shoulder made a pop! She groaned out in pain, the exact same sound coming from her attacker due to the impact, and they nearly dropped her in surprise. But they maintained their grip and span her around, pushing her up against the wall to keep her from fighting.

"Cool it, killer!" He said, "Stop!"

Robin almost threw another punch, but stopped herself short.

Her eyes focused in the dark and landed on a familiar face, their cheek tinged red and curly hair a rugged mess.

"Bellamy?"

"Birdy," he nodded.

His new nickname seemed to break her from her trance, and she shoved his hands off her. He lifted them in defence but reached for her again when she moaned in pain, "Hey— hey, you good birdy?"

"Fine," she hissed, smacking his hand and using her own to put against her sore shoulder. Bellamy's eyes lingered on the area, and he glared when she gave him a mean look. Robin stepped back to create distance between them, "I'm fine. No thanks to you, asshole."

"I just saved your ass," Bellamy crossed his arms, "I could of left you to die in that fog, but what do I get? Elbowed in the face! Be a little more grateful, sweetheart."

   She shot him another nasty look and rolled her eyes. Bellamy did the same and they turned away from each other childishly, and the movement quickly revealed to her that it wasn't only them stuck in the cave. Rather, close to where they were stood, was a girl. Maybe a few years younger than Robin, give or take five at most; her eyes were wide as she watched them bicker, and she shuffled on her feet nervously. Robin assumed she was from camp.

    "What's with the kid?"

    "Charlotte," Bellamy corrected. "We were hunting."

    "You brought a little girl hunting?" Robin spoke with distaste. It sounded like a bad idea, seeing as the kid looked beyond terrified.

   Before he could defend himself against her sharp tone, the little girl — Charlotte — spoke up; "I'm not much shorter than you," she said with the strongest voice she could muster. It wasn't very strong but she hoped it impressed the older girl, who quirked a brow. She pursed her lips, "And I'm not scared, either."

   Bellamy tilted his head to the ground and smirked, trying to hide a smile, while Robin shrugged.

    "I never said you were."

   Charlotte's face dropped, suddenly insecure again.

    "But not bad, kid." Robin added, her face friendlier. There was few things better in life than a girl who could hold her own. Robin wasn't a fan of kids, but this one might not be the worst. Charlotte visibly brightened.

   Robin looked between Bellamy and Charlotte, her eyes squinted in thought. They were an odd pair to go out hunting, and while he played the big, bad wolf, she wouldn't have thought Bellamy would bring a little girl with him — partially because he was a grouch who acted like he would eat whiny children for breakfast if they got too annoying, but mostly because he was protective of his sister. He had made Octavia stay behind at every opportunity, and so she figured he would apply the same behaviour to some other little girl. Plus, it was a total liability to have a child on a hunting trip — he was one to think so, anyway. Robin didn't get it.

    "You two went hunting?" She asked, bemused.

    "There were others," Bellamy said. "Lost them in the stew," his face contorted, guilt? "They'll have found cover." It was his turn to eye her up, "What were you doing outside of camp?"

    "Looking for stuff to help Jasper," she shrugged, showing him a handful of the seaweed in her pockets. His face went sour, quickly.

    "Alone?"

    "There were others," she mocked.

    "Cute," he rolled his eyes at her. "You think he'll make it?"

    "Not really," Robin told him, honestly. His face turned to one of surprise as she spoke, having expected a very different response to the one he received. He listened to her words closely, "But we have to try. I think I'd want someone to try, for me..." she bit her lip and sighed lightly, "Monty likes him, anyway. He's gotta be a good kid. Good kids don't deserve to die,"

    "You think, so?"

    "Yeah— I do."

 
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