Day 006: No Time, Part II
Summary: Part of the tracking team returns to the camp to gather a warparty. The camp — or most of it — finally comes together.
Date: 7 May 2016
Related: Logs pertaining to We Are Grounders
Grey Faolan Henry Zoe Evie Cole Fiona Frankie Cookie Max Lip Martin Delinquents 

Grounds, The Delinquent Camp

With the removal of underbrush and a half-dozen small trees, there is now a tiny clearing around the dropship. It has begun to fill with detritus from the ship, including all of the seating, padding, and removable plates or bulkheads. Several tents have been set up within the clearing, set close together within the confines of the surrounding trees. A three-holer latrine is set up downwind of camp in the prevailing breezes, and the rough beginnings of a wall stretch between trees at the edge of the clearing, dropship plates and felled tree-trunks being stacked up as quickly as the Delinquents can manage.

The forest immediately surrounding the camp has been cowed into near-silence, but is still vibrant and green to a people used to stark metal bulkheads all around them.

6 Days After Landing

It is almost noon, and the delinquent camp has reached a lull. Work on the wall has slowed for a little bit so food can be consumed and energy restored. Much of the western wall and northwest corner has been built, giving some protection. The ex-Cadets have worked out a watch schedule, and there are some spear-wielding kids moving around the exterior of the camp in a proceeding-kind of walk. A second tracking group had left camp about three or four hours ago, this time lead by Grey and Faolan with some other Earth Skills nerds.

The general feel around the camp is one of anxious waiting and ever-growing tension. More and more kids have taken up refuge inside the dropship, as if it provides more security than just hanging around in the open.

Grey comes back to camp at a dead run. He's not sprinting, because he's evidently been running for a long while, but he's definitely moving fast. Sweat plasters his now-sleeveless shirt to his body, and has washed off a great deal of the mud and moss that had been smeared over his skin to make him look even more like part of the forest. As he spots the burgeoning wall, he gives a wave to attract the attention of the nearest Delinquent on watch. As he pounds out of the last of the trees, he leans over, hands on his knees, breathing hard. Between whole-body pants, he gets out, "We found 'em." Breathe, Grey, breathe, "We found 'em and they're on the move now."

With Grey is Faolan, he too running. Long loping strides meant to cover ground over distance. In his belt; a grounder knife. There's a grounder water skin slung over his shoulder, and grounder packs of food. His spear is bloody, and there's blood mixed with grime on his hands, a dark mush, and enough of it on his t-shirt that its original white-grey is no longer visible. On his cheeks there are two lines painted in red, four of them total. Tribal and savage, and they're made in blood. Sweat makes his dark hair slick, and he's breathing with the deep labored breathes of someone who has been running for a while. There's a hard expression on his youthful features, and a dark determined glow in his eyes. He stabs his spear in the ground and leans against it as he tries to calm down his racing heart and slow his hard panting. He lets Grey do the talking for now. Breathing is much nicer.

With a growl of frustration, Henry kicks a rock and sends it flying into the undergrowth. Poor rock. The rustle it makes as it pushes through leaves and branches doesn't seem to satisfy him, however, his face still a tight, dispassionate mask. Grunting, he resumes his patrol, spear in hand, and manages to make it about three more steps before the sight of Grey and Faolan brings him up short. The body language of the young man causes him to shoulder forward, and he presses close, the better to hear. "Where are they moving? Here?" His brow furrows and he looks up, scanning the surrounding trees.

Zoe is actually in the camp too for a change. She was standing near the edge, giving some archery lessons to a couple of random delinquents. At the sight of Grey and an apparently bloodied Faolan running up she groans and rubs her temples. So much for today's lessons! The girl slings her bow over her shoulder and heads in the direction that no doubt everyone else is. To go see what sort of mischief the Cool Kids Club has gotten into today.

Grey's words have set some of the delinquents on edge, but even more sparked with curiosity. Four of the workers from the wall are forgetting returning to their jobs, and instead stepping forward to listen to the news. "You found them? Who?" Then one of them almost squeak out, "Grounders?" He looks at Henry, and then back at Grey. "Grounders are coming here?" A small murmur is carried around, news already spreading fast as delinquents rush off to tell others thatt the tracking party is back, and with news.

Grey and Faolan aren't the only ones returning to camp at this time. Evie and her crew are far less frantic, sauntering as nonchalantly as possible into camp with their haul of goodies from their foraging. "Find the hunters, Martin, and tell them about the boar," she murmurs, but this is all she gets out before the other two steal their thunder. Damn it, it was their time to shine! The taste of sizzling pork fat fades from her imagination, only to be replaced by the dull ache of fear in her belly. She needn't ask the question, as others are already putting voice to it, but she stops beside Henry and frowns at the two former Cadets. "Did you find our people? Did the Grounders have them?"

Cole was sitting on the ramp of the dropship when people started trickling in, giving himself and the other working on the wall time for a break. However, all this new hubbub, no reason right now. Never mind that this is where the panic sets in. So he just sits there, and listens.

Fiona was just coming back from a water run, and almost drops the containers she's carrying when she sees the pair most recently arrived. "What did you do?" she blurts out in horror, taking the state of them in. "We need to get any kids who can't fight into the dropship if they aren't already." She does not count herself amongst those.

So many bodies packed into the drop ship does not a pleasant smelling place make. So Frankie is sitting at the base to the gangplank leading to the large hatchway. She may not be able to walk quite yet, but she is fully capable of tasks that don't require the use of legs and in this case it is doing some mending to clothes of anyone that needed it. She isn't the best at sewing but you know what they say about beggars and choosers.

As Grey and Faolan hurry into the camp Frankie looks at the a bit wide-eyed, the shirt in her hands forgotten as she looks around at the commotion thier arrival has started.

Grey shakes his head, doing his best to catch his breath, one hand going to his right side where his shirt has a day-old bloodied slash in it. "No. No." He waves a hand in Evie's direction as he confirms, "Found Q and Devin," breath, "and Ruth and Morgan. Being taken by the Grounders." He waves a hand generally north or northeast as he takes another couple of breaths, "that-a-way. Cameron and Silas," breath, "Are following, leaving a trail. Were only four Grounders. That we saw." Fiona's look of horror gets a confused look in response, and he looks to Faolan, then to himself, coughing a dry laugh, "Got attacked. No one hurt. No Grounder survivors."

Faolan still seems fine with letting Grey do the talking. He unhitches the Grounder waterskin and takes a slow swallow. Fiona's horrified outburst makes him grit his teeth and grimace, though. He drags out a few words; "what we had to." As if that turn of phrase has some sort of special meaning. He wipes sweat from his brow, but his hands are so dirty that just leaves a grime covered smear in its wake.

Henry's head immediately swivels to the northeast, following the trajectory of Grey's gesture. His lips press together into a thin line. "I'll go," he says almost immediately. Never mind that no one has asked him. "How are they marking the trail." Evie gets a cautious nod next to him before his eyes fixation on Grey and Faolan once more.

Oh, no, Evie. The promise of pancetta is not one Cookie is so keen to relinquish. Pancetta, people. You do not yet understand, but you will. (If ever a boar is procured for supper, that is.)

Everyone else seems more preoccupied with panic, though, and the chef reluctantly accepts that the hunting party she was hoping to assemble isn't the hunting party she's found upon her arrival. For now, she remains quiet, listening and observing, her dismayed expression probably encompassing more than the delayed acquisition of pork.

Well that's enough for her. Zoe rolls her eyes and heads off into the woods in the direction Grey was just pointing. There's no sense in letting someone else beat her to the punch after all! She hopes to get a good head start while Grey and Faolan recover from their exertion and injuries. And she's gone into the trees, unless someone manages to stop her.

The idea of getting into the dropship does not seem to spur movement from the growing gathering of delinquents around Grey and Faolan. Some are really curious, talking in hushes to each other. Others look frightened at the premise of Grounders heading this way, but the general feeling is one of nervous disquiet. "Why are they moving them?" Then someone else goes. "Where are they moving them?" And then one more smart-ass goes, "Gosh, I wonder if they are taking them to the beach. You know, a nice vacation."

Evie relaxes visibly, scanning over Faolan and Grey briefly after the latter admits to a skirmish with Grounders. "Four? That's not so bad," she murmurs, looking over her shoulder to the other delinquents who have gathered. "Maybe they really do travel in small groups. There were only a few by the river, too." She shifts the backpack still hanging from her shoulders before swinging it free and handing it off to Cookie. "Take these. Non-food herbs to the med camp, and split the foodstuffs. A fourth to the med tent, and the others to the kitchen. I promise we'll get to hunt that boar, babe." She glances back to Henry again, but her attention is caught by Zoe trying to leave. "Hey, wait! Stop being a fucking idiot and get back here! If we're going to keep following them, we're going to do it organized. If you get pincushioned by the bastards, I'm not lifting a hand to help!"

"Let her go." Cole grunts at Evie. "Far as I can tell, Grounders would be doing us a fuckin favor. Enough people here want exactly that to happen to her. I know I won't lose any fuckin sleep over it."

Zoe is far enough away to not hear any of the passive aggression going on behind her back. She disappears into the trees without so much as a word to anyone.

Fiona holds up a hand to the kids murmuring. "Sorry," she says, and looks back to the two boys. "They're on the move, but they're not coming here?" Because that's what it kind of sounded like they were trying to say, but well. Misunderstandings happen.

Grey looks over to Faolan at Henry's question, horror dawning on his features as he finally starts to get his breathing under control, "Uh. It'll be obvious." There's an unspoken 'I hope.' Probably should have figured out what the trail-laying system was going to be before running off to get help. Either he doesn't notice Zoe heading off in the vague swathe of direction he waved in, or he doesn't care. He's a bit busy catching his breath and answering questions right now. "Dunno why, dunno where." He nods at Fiona, "Right. Taking them along a track. Somewhere east-ways. Quinn's being carried on a horse." That should cause a stir right there. "The other three are being led behind them." He points to one Delinquent's water sack, beckoning for it. Tracking, sneaking, fighting, and running is all thirsty work.

"When do we go get them?" Max says as he comes in, hearing the end of what was said. He's got a bandage around his leg, but he can walk, though it doesn't seem that he's being as reckless as he was the other night. Maybe someone managed to calm him down some. As he doesn't go stalking randomly off into the woods.

Zoe's departure earns a furrowed frown from Faolan. "Where's she going?" He mutters. But since she hadn't gone out and pointed out her plan to single handedly take on the hunt, he just shakes his head. "No matter. We need people. If we can catch up, with numbers, we can deal with four of them. We can do the damn ambush and see how they like it. They die just like anyone else if you stab them in the right place." For all those hard words, a brief second there Faolan's eyes flicker with a momentary bit of unease. But then he crushes that feeling. This is war. You kill your enemy in war.

Henry's eyes do indeed go a touch wide at the mention of a horse. "That's…amazing." The otherwise taciturn young man has an expression of wonder, and with it comes the first faint flicker of hope. It doesn't last long, smothered in the lack of information about the trail signals, but it is there…for one brief shining moment. "We need to go now." A nod to Faolan. "The longer we wait, the greater the risk that they will outpace us, or worse, that something will happen to obscure the trail." As he eyes the place where Zoe went he murmurs so only those closest to him can hear, "If she fucks this up…"

Tossing her canteen toward Faolan with a quiet 'heads up', Evie continues to watch as Zoe disappears. She offers a middle finger at the dark trees before returning to the conversation. "A weighed-down horse and three stragglers on foot. Even if we can't find their clues, those tracks will be just as easy - if not easier - to follow, but if we don't know where they're going, we'd better prepare for an overnight stay outside of the camp. Rest for a few minutes, though, Faolan. And no, Henry. They'll be going a bit slow with three people tied up. We have time for a couple minutes to prepare properly instead of gallivanting about in unknown wilderness without supplies."

Some of the delinquents are looking very, very concerned when Faolan mentions killing, and others look downright afraid. "What if you provoked them more?" A girl asks in a shaky voice. "We should have left them alone, and they would leave us alone!" Then she takes a deep breath, looking around at the others. More delinquents however are nodding in agreement to getting armed and heading into the woods. Some though are slowly creeping back to Fiona, taking up stance with her and muttering to themselves about what they should do.

Fiona puts up her hand again to quell the murmuring around her, walking up to Faolan, and reaching out to brush her thumb along the red streaks, coming away with some of it on her thumb and part of her hand. Looking down at it, lifting her hand to her face to get a whiff of it, she says, "It's done now. We never could leave them alone, we're not abandoning our people." This to the others. "It was never about not getting them back, it was about how we did it. Are going to do it."

"That's what's going to happen, y'know." Cole remarks to the girl with the shaky voice. "This is how fuckin war starts. A series of fuckin retalitory strikes til there ain't anbody left fuckin alive to remember just why they were killin the fuck out of each other. But…it's too fuckin late now. We've already killed some of theirs. And when they find the fuckin bodies, hopefully they won't, but if they do, thy're gonna figure it out who it fuckin happened to be. So…their gonna want to get back us. Kill the prisoners, or maybe just come back here and wipe us all fuckin out." Then a shrug. "But no, we had to get the bloodlust in our mouths. But, we're already at the point of no fuckin return, so might as well see it through to the fuckin end, whatever that fuckin end might be." Then a vague wave at the partially built wall. "I'd suggest working on that fuckin thing. Take your mind off things."

Frankie's attention moves to each individual as they speak, but mainly stay on Grey and Faolan since they seem to be the one with the answers to the questions on everyone's mind. The 'what we had to' comment is met with a frown. That sorta sounded ominious to her. "Killing the grounders to get our people back probably not the best idea." she finally speaks up, if not a bit softfully "They will us, we kill them, they kill more of us. Vicious cycle. And there are probably more of them.

"We killed some of them?" Max asks, late to the party. He rests one hand on the handle of one of his makeshift knives unconsciously, though not threateningly, just reflexively checking for its presence. He looks from one to the other of those gathered, Cole in particular when he talks about the point of no return and says, "Maybe not yet. But if we start thinking like that, it's going to become a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"In a minute, Max." Grey takes the bottom of his shirt and fans himself with it a bit, finally starting to cool down, "We'll have to move fast, but I think we can catch 'em." That's said with a nod to Faolan and Evie. The worries from some of the crowd cause him to frown, anger flashing over his features. Fiona's words get a blink of surprise, but it doesn't abate his anger, just directs it elsewhere. Martin's question draws a simple, "One, he attacked us. And we hid the body." Cole's grumping causes him to snap, "I'm not lettin' them drag Q and the others off to who-knows-where. How many of you would want to be left to the Grounders 'cause people here are too scared to help?"
In the meanwhile, Cookie is busy doing what Evie asked of her. Divvying up the bounty between medical and the kitchen.

"If I knew that getting me back would mean starting a fuckin war, Grey? That would endanger /everyone/?" Cole blinks at the other man. "Yeah, I'd expect you to leave my ass behind. One person is not as valuable as the whole. Needs of the many versus the needs of the few. Pick one, because you can't have fuckin both."

Martin nods at the answer given, "And they killed two of us, so we are still not at the point of us having killed more of them than they of us." Looking to Cole and Fiona, he nods, " No one is saying that we should leave them. However, there are other options than killing them all."

Faolan catches the canteen when its thrown, taking a swallow and passing it on to Grey. When Fiona touches his cheek, he doesn't flinch from it, and she comes away with blood on her fingers. Its a couple of hours since he painted it on, but sweating and running has kept it fairly moist on his skin. "We'll kill if we have to, and if they surrender then we won't. You're acting as if they've given us much choice. As if we should've just sat back and hoped for the best, for them to prove merciful and kind and understanding when nothing they've done suggests that's an option. Bloodlust? They're the ones with the blood lust. This isn't aggression, this isn't attacking their villages, or caves, or however they live, or murdering random Grounders we come across. Its about getting our people back, now, while we have the opportunity. Those of you who don't want to do it? I wouldn't want you by my side anyway."

"Take a couple of minutes then," Henry snaps to Evie, his cheeks flushing red. He has the grace to look somewhat embarrassed by the outburst for a split second after, but he turns his back on her to stare out at the woods, as if he might will himself to reach the captives with the sheer power of his eyes. "Yeah, we'll be sure to ask them nicely first," he mutters sarcastically to no one in particular.

Another delinquent close to Cole pipes up with a firm, "They fucking retaliated by killing our people because we crossed a river." That gets a few murmurs of agreement, but a few other murmurs if dissent. "We were just trying to get to Mount Weather," says another girl, one of the Ex-Cadets. Then another shouts from the back. "We're fucking stuck here, we can't go crawling back to the Ark! We gotta make a stand, show 'em that we aren't going to be messed with!" In response, a boy behind Fiona shouts back, "They would have left us alone if we hadn't fucked with their markers! Those could have been sacred to them or something."

"Oh holy fuck, please just stop talking! It was always going to be war. It was war the minute our dropship touched down. If it weren't, they would've told us to bugger off instead of attacking and dragging our people away. There's no question about whether or not to get our people back, Grey, no matter what the naysayers may take up as their mantra." Evie darts a glare toward Cole briefly, but there isn't time to continue petty squabbles. "I'll get a med kit together. They could be injured. Or, well, we could end up injured." She purses her lips and offers Henry a deadpan stare before scooting off in Cookie's direction to claim her share of their spoils.

Max nods when the death tolls are mentioned, making mental note but not adding any more questions for the time being. Whatever opinions he might have, he seems to be keeping them to himself now. Strolling over to a nearby stump, he sits down on it to wait, and to watch the conversation jumping from one person to the other, glancing at those groups muttering for and against, crying war, and imploring for peace.

"Get them back if that's what you want to fuckin do. Just be prepared for what comes after. Because there will be consequences to it." Cole remarks." And if the arguments weren't enough evidence of he's thinking, what he's been thinking, he gets up, grabbing his bag, and hooking his tire iron through his belt. Another look at the group as a whole, and he begins to walk out of the camp. Not north, but in another direction. The mechanic is done.

Grey turns his dark gaze on Cole, "Then fuck you, Cole." He takes a swig from the canteen, then hands it back to Faolan. One hand sweeps around the crowd, "Because I'm tellin' you right now, there isn't a single one of you here in the camp that I wouldn't come for. Not a single one." He slams his right fist into his chest, shouting, "We're the One Hundred. We're all we got, we're all we need!" Sure, he would love to have a squad of Guard here with automatic weapons right now, but that's not in the cards. And it's not what he needs, let alone anyone else.

"I'm willing to fight." Fiona says, lifting her voice. "I'm willing to fight if we have to. We're outnumbered and outplanned and they have better weapons and knowledge of the area. But it's wrong to think we don't have choices. We could try to communicate. We could try to get our people back without throwing ourselves over a damn cliff and onto their spears! And if they can't or won't, then we fight." But getting their people back? That was never an issue. She looks after Cole, trying hard not to feel betrayed.

"Uh. Technically? We ain't a hundred no more? I don't mean to nitpick but… I'm just sayin'!" Lip has appeared from nowhere. Somehow he has popped up next to Martin and has a good view of the going ons. Because that's just how Lip rolls. He's made his 'introductory comment' and winces slightly because, y'know, still in pain. But whatever. He's here to peanut gallery this ish. He then immediately looks around to see if anyone is making any actual sense. "Has anyone tried, I dunno, just /asking/ these murderous bastards of death if we can have our people back? Just a thought!"

"No, Fiona. Now's the time to move," Faolan tells Fiona with a shake of his head. He extends the canteen towards Evie, offering it back. "Now, while they're on the move, while we have people following them, while its just a small group and we can choose the moment to engage. Its now. If you wanna go talk to them after, I won't stop you. But this is an opportunity we can't waste. Perhaps we get some prisoners. You can talk to them, can't you?"

To lips he says: "Yeah, let's try to talk to them. When anytime they see us they try to kill us. Like that bastard did today before we showed him we're not as weak as they think."

Henry has stopped talking altogether, his eyes still on that point in the distance where the captives and Grounders might be. It might even be easy to assume that his thoughts were out there as well if there weren't a slight tightening of his shoulders when Evie gives him that dead pan stare. He grip shifts on the spear in his hand several times, tightening and relaxing in slow cycles.

Suddenly, something happens. It might have been the moment where Grey rallied, and Fiona backed him up. The divisions and derision starts to melt, and fuse into an abrupt sense of unity. Yeah, sure… some really still think they could avoid violence, and others still think violence is the only response, and others still who would really like to stay hiding in the dropship, but… they are starting to come together on this. "We got to get them back," and "We can't leave them to the Grounders!" And bam, the camp is suddenly not just a bunch of whiny teenagers waiting to screw the Ark, or waiting to survive until the adults come down.

Shit just got real.

Fiona holds up her hands, one of them red with blood, toward Faolan and Grey as if in appeasement. "We go now. But we take at least one of them prisoner. No maybes, no 'accidents'. We take a prisoner and we get what we can out of them. There's more value in it than we have time to explain, but I know both of you know that."

Grey clearly likes the attention, there at the center of everything. He turns to Fiona, listening her her words and nodding. He offers out his hand to her, "What do you say, Princess Tesla, we don't kill if we don't have to, but we do everything we gotta to get our people back? We take one of them prisoner if we can. And after we got our people back, we can try to talk to the Grounders. See if there's somethin' we can do to stop this before it gets bloodier."

"That sounds like a plan," Max says from where he sits, having carefully watched the shift in attitude around the camp. "So, now that we've got one.. can we maybe.. get to executing it?" Because he's been wanting to tear off after the others since the river, and it's clear from the way his knuckles are a little bit white, that he's a bit anxious to get this show on the road.

"Get water and food; we probably won't be back tonight and you don't want to go hungry," Faolan says to those who are volunteering. "You need a weapon. We should have some rope or something with us to tie any prisoners with." He nods towards Evie. "That medkit is a great idea. All of them were hurt, and I doubt we'll take those four Grounders down without someone else getting hurt, too." Though he seems to be getting through all these scrapes without even a scratch to show for it.

"Max, you took an arrow. You should stay behind."

"Agreed." Fiona puts her hand in Grey's firmly, only belatedly realizing it's the bloody one. But maybe that's how it should be. They're going to make people bleed, and they're all going to bleed together. She looks then over at Faolan. "I'm going." Not a request.

"If Fiona's goin', I'm goin'." Lip tries to stand up straighter or something. Like he actually has a presence that is worth something. "I can't fight. I can't run. I can't, well, I pretty much can't do shit." Lip knows his limits very well and has no qualms about expressing his failure. "But I wanna' help." Lip holds up a finger. "… the hot chick didn't die, right? Otherwise, I may have to rethink this whole 'going' thing."

"Fuck you," Max says to Faolan. "I came back at the river. I'm going now. I like you, but I will punch you in the face. It's not up for discussion." He might like the guy, but there is no arguing with him when it comes down to going to get their people back. Jaw set, he pulls himself up from the stump and moves toward them, not with any particular intent to punch Faolan in the face, however, merely falling in with those getting ready to go.

Grey glances down at the blood-sticky grasp he's got with Fiona, looking down at his palm after he shakes her hand once and releases it. He draws in a slow, shaky breath, then wipes the blood on his pants, trying to get it off his hand. Faolan's words to Max draw a grimace, and he moves to step between Max and Faolan, "Max wants to go for his friend." He looks to Fiona, then says, "I say anyone who wants to go comes, as long as they can keep up and can defend themselves." There's a glance to Lip, and he adds, "And they know how to shut up when they have to."

Henry's attention suddenly snaps back to the group from his study of the forest. "How certain are you that this isn't a trap?" He doesn't sound certain of it either…the question seems a genuine one. "They lead us into an ambush, or…we send all of our fighters off to the rescue and a larger group of grounders comes and hits the camp?"

"You're also injured," Faolan tells Lip simply. "We'll already have to push a hard pace to catch up, and we can't afford to have to care for more injured people then we already are. We cant afford to stop because you're suddenly bleeding out." Frowning, he shakes his head at Grey. "They should stay behind. But fine, whatever. We're not slowing down for them, though. We're not leaving anyone behind to watch or take care of them if they collapse. No burdens."

Miscellaneous supplies have been gathered and carefully packed away, freeing up Evie to rejoin the group. She shifts her pack on her shoulders to settle the weight comfortably, and the slosh of the canteen strapped to the side accompanies the movement. The handle of her knife protrudes from her waistband in front - easy to grab should she need to. In her left hand she holds a spear, although right now it's more of a glorified walking stick with a wicked piece of scrap metal strapped to the end. "I'm ready to go."

"No." Fiona's tone is gentle but firm. "You're badly injured, Lip. You wont be able to keep up, and if something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself." Wiping her own hand as well (which probably makes her and Grey look like a pair of third graders forced to shake hands and apologize) she adds, "I need you to stay. For me. Okay?" Her brows lift as she regards Faolan. "Don't you worry about me keeping up."

"Right. Got it. I'm too loud and I'm useless in pretty much anything resembling anything useful. Understood." Lip gives a bit of a glance around to all those gathered and then takes some steps off in the direction of the Dropship. "Gonna' go get out the fuckin' way so you all can do whatever it is you do. It's been a while since I've coughed up blood so I'm gonna' go take care of that."

Grey shakes his head at Henry, "If they wanted us to see, the Grounder wouldn't have attacked us. But you're right. We gotta keep some fighters here. And when we get back, everyone's gettin' lessons in how to defend themselves." Glancing to Faolan, he adds, "You think you can head that up when we get back? I'm a shitty teacher. And you're right, we ain't slowin' down for anyone." He addresses the group again, "So if you're comin', you better be able to keep up, or you're walkin' back to camp on your own." And then he looks down over his still-soaked shirt, "And now I need some more water, and another spear. Give us a few minutes, then we're off."

Faolan slumps down on the ground. He rummages through the food pack he'd pilfered off the dead Grounder, and chews a bit of Grounder food, building up his energy reserves for when they start back up. He has nothing he needs to pick up or really check. He stares out at the woods in the direction they're going to leave, and chews, and thinks, and wonders about how that Grounder could've looked so human in death. Almost peaceful, like.

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