Day 008: This Land is Our Land
Summary: Morgan, Grey, and Fiona get some valuable information from the Grounder prisoners… and argue a lot.
Date: 11 May 2016
Related: We Are Grounders Arc
Morgan Grey Archer Fiona 


Secondary Passenger Hold, The Dropship
The top level of the dropship was once the secondary passenger cabin, hosting rows of seats, may against the dark gray walls. Emptied now of its seats, and stripped to bare metal, this level is much smaller and closer than the ones below. It has been refitted into The Box — the delinquent camp's makeshift lockup. The lighting here is dim, casting deep shadows in the far corners of the room. Some of the harness straps have been roughly knotted together to create shackles so that prisoners can be bound and fettered to the walls.
8 Days After Landing

Morgan wanted to get to see Grounders and check on their wounds before this but first he fell asleep almost as soon as getting back to camp and then the next day one thing led to another, culminating with Asher's pseudo-surgery. Having heard all the talk and rumors, he's made sure to schedule time to see them. ASAP in fact. Coming into the passenger hold, he heads for the ladder and starts heading up to see the Grounders.

Grey stands in the secondary passenger hold, at the base of the ladder, changing out of his Grounder-captured shirt and back into the sleeveless rag of a shirt that he came down to Earth in. The dead man's shirt, sword, and Grey's own spear are set down just outside of Medbay, and when he goes back to the ladder, there's Morgan. Grey studies the other man a moment, then nods, gesturing for him to head up to the jammed hatch first, "Just give a knock."

Upon a knock being given, there's a quiet sound from above as one of the guards takes the metal bar from between the ladder's rungs and hauls open the hatch. There are two of them up there, one with a metal club and the other with a spear, staying near the hatch door and away from the Grounders, even if one of them is asleep.

Jokes are aplenty that the captive Grounders have been fed and watered recently, like well-kept pets. They are still bound and fettered to the walls, but now their arms are not searing in their shoulder joints and their legs are being given a rest. The last to see the Grounders was said to be Fiona, and the guards are all chatty about how well that conversation went. In a nutshell: if the delinquents don't let them go soon, retribution will be fatal. It is now becoming a hot topic down in the grounds on whether or not just letting them go might be a better course of action, and what are they even going to do with them in the long term anyway.

There is still a wide stretch of parachute dividing the secondary hold into two "cells." The Archer is resting with her back against the dropship wall, head tilted back to stare up at the ceiling with a mostly unfocused look. She hums something under her breath — a flowing, almost lullaby-like tune. On the other side of the parachute, the Big Dude appears to be sleeping, and even grants the two guards on duty a soft snore of reassurance.

The Archer looks down from her lofty spot of interest at the knock, and her brows arch when Morgan first emerges. But, as Grey enters, her expression becomes more oblique and distant. She flexes her fingers once, and the muscles through her arms tighten a bit. Then she relaxes once more. Her attention settles on Morgan now, and Grey gets what must be the Grounder equivalent to the cold shoulder.

Knowing he was going to see the prisoners, Morgan left his own ill gotten goods in Medbay before leaving the ship to hit the latrine so he's all good to go in a filthy blood stained shirt and jacket, both of which have an arrow hole in it. He really needs a makeover. "Why are they tied so they can't feed themselves?" he asks, glancing back over his shoulder at Grey. He doesn't wait for an answer as he steps toward the Archer, nodding a greeting. "Sorry I didn't get up here sooner. I'd like to check on both your injuries and make sure you're okay."

Grey waits until the hatch is closed and barred again after him, then shrugs, looking at the Archer and rubbing the bruise splotched across his forehead and temple. His darker skin tone and the low lights help hide it, but only help. Shaking his head a little, he looks over to the Big Man, studying the apparently-sleeping Grounder, "Because they're both warriors, most of you who want to see her ain't, and when I untied one of her hands to make her more comfortable, the woman attacked me. I'm not gonna see anyone dead because the idiot got too close to someone who wants to kill them."

The corner of the Archer's mouth twitches when Grey gives his story, and she glances to Morgan with a slight lift of one shoulder. The gesture causes a faint touch of ache to cross her features, but it is the only reveal of her pains. As for wounds, her bandages have not been changed since the first treatments on the battlefield by Layla — maybe for the same reasons why their arms are still bound. The wrapped wound where a knife punctured her leg, and the scrape of a spear across her shoulder and collarbone seem to be the worst injuries, where as the others are now nothing more than nicks or shallow cuts, scabbed and puckered at the edges.

"Well, I'm not a Grounder and half the time I want to attack you too." Morgan says with a smirk. He's probably joking. Probably. To a degree. "I think we can figure out something where they can at least feed themselves while still being secure. And let them lie down to sleep too. There's lots of brackets from the seats we took out." He nods at the shrug, taking it as a yes and moves to start unwrapping the bandage around her leg. "Is there something I can call you two? 'Hey you' is imprecise." She already knows his name from when they were captured. "Grey, can you get some fresh bandages up here please?"

Grey steps closer to the big man for a moment, out of sight of the Archer and of Morgan. "Yeah, but you're not crazy enough to do it, at least not yet. She is." After a minute or so, he apparently decides that the blonde really is sleeping, or that he just doesn't care, and steps out again, coming around to the Archer's side of the parachute-cloth curtain, "You come up with a way they can do all those things and can't strangle the idiot who gets too close, and I'll help you move 'em myself. I've been tryin' to come up with a good way since yesterday." At the request, he gives Morgan a very level look, "And I ain't your errand boy, Morgan. You can get your own bandages if you want 'em."

Again, there is a flicker of amusement across her features when the hint of bickering threatens to begin between the two. Again, they ask after their names, and it causes the Archer to loft a brow in silent question. Then she breathes out a sigh, speaking in her low contralto, "You all have an obsession with knowing our names, Morghan kom Skaikru." The way she says his name puts a harsh emphasis the second syllable, and allowing it to flow more naturally with the given surname. Then she looks over Morgan's shoulder at Grey, and her eyes narrow slightly. "There is a solution… let us go entirely. We will leave here without violence." Maybe, probably…

"It's called being helpful, not being an errand boy. You've been spending too much time around Zoe." Pause. "But I was thinking more of just opening the hatch and calling down to someone. They can toss em up. Suit yourself though." Morgan shrugs. "I bet someone with engineer training could come up with something that would work." He glances up from the Archer's leg. "Do you not use names among yourselves? Or do you just not give them out to strangers? One of the first things we do when meeting someone is to exchange names. Are you in any pain? I can bring you some willow tea if you are." At the mention of letting them go, he glances at Grey a moment but then goes back to unbandaging her leg.

"Personally, I think they're just being pains in the ass." Grey snarks easily, then nods to one of the guards. He looks from Grey to Morgan, then shrugs, unlatching the hatch and calling down for more bandages from their limited supply. He narrows his eyes at the woman, studying her for a long moment as he thinks, "What do you think, Archer come Grounder? You just yankin' our chains around?" He glances to Morgan as the other man looks up, then looks to the Grounder woman again, "We just want to know why the attack happened," He gives his eyes a pre-roll, "Besides 'You were going toward the Mountain.' And we want to know how many of you there are, and how you go about stopping wars before they start." He gestures toward the new arrangement of the straps, "We're tryin' to make you as comfortable as we can without riskin' our people."

"We do not give them out to enemies," the Archer corrects dully. She does not resist the changing of her bandages, perhaps knowing when it is time to lash out and when it is time to give into care. She snorts slightly when he asks after her pain, and she fixes him with an arched look. "I do not require more than a change of bandages," she replies in a low note. Then she settles her shoulders back once more against the dropship wall, being quite a serene patient despite her current situation. Then the Grounder releases a deep breath of frustration. "I have said it… and will say it again… the longer you keep us here, the more risk you put your people in, Greh kom Skaikru." Now she's just showing off. This is what happens when you have a group so willing to share their names.

"We're not enemies." Morgan points out as he inspects the wound. Glancing around, he gets some of the water that's still waiting to be drunk and dribbles some on her leg, using the old bandages to wash it as best he can before he sets the aside. "Maybe not friends but not enemies. Do you sew up wounds?" he asks, looking back up at her. "Stitching the edges closed? Wounds heal better that way and there's less chance of infection. We can show you how. There's probably a lot of knowledge we could trade."

Grey smirks a bit at the pronunciation of his name, "That's actually not my first name." But he'll leave it at that. Still, he nods to the woman, "Yeah. You have. And you're puttin' your people at risk by not talkin' to us. Because if they do figure out that we took you, and they storm the place? We're not goin' down easy. Some of your people will die, even if all of ours do." There's a little bit of bravado there, but mostly weary resolve. "That's on your heads if it happens, because you're too busy showing how tough you are." It's a subject he is intimately familiar with.

The Archer does not debate the clarification from Morgan, but she doesn't agree to it either. She settles back into her stoic silence once more, considering the boy who had once been in her own village, in a cell of his own. Sometimes things are funny like that. She snorts a bit at Grey's words, shaking her head as she does. "You would allow your people to die in order to keep your hands on two of the Trikru? Think about that, and you may find yourself wondering if we are worth the lives of your friends." Then she regards Morgan. "I am not the one you should be making deals with."

"That wasn't a deal. That was something for you to think about. You know things we need to know. We know things you need to know. We could both benefit." The bandages get tossed up and caught by one of the guards who tosses them over in turn. Morgan wets one to finish cleaning the wound. "I'm guessing Bear Skull is the leader of your people from what I saw. Are you his second in command or somewhere below that?"

Grey shakes his head sharply, "No. I'd keep my hands on two of the…" there's a pause, then he shrugs, "Tree Crew, in order to save my people." Possessive, isn't he? And to think, he doesn't even seem to notice the fact. "We let you go, there's absolutely no reason for them not to attack us, and we know exactly two things about you, 'jack,' and 'shit.'" A few more things than that, really. But not many. "Can't make a peace with those two things." He looks down at Morgan, then lifts his gaze to the Archer's, shaking his head slowly, "They don't care about mutual benefit, Morgan." There's challenge in his tone, but not directed at his fellow Delinquent. "All they care about is keepin' people away from Mount Weather."

The Archer just shakes her head at both of these skaikru boys. She rests her head back, starting to close her eyes. "Who we are to our people doesn't matter beyond this… they will come for us… mark my words." Then she breathes out a slow exhale, allowing her body to relax despite the outward spread of her arms.

Morgan looks over at Grey then back to Wolf Skull. "Is that it? You attacked us because we were going to Mount Weather?" He'd heard that but now he gets to ask her directly and interject some things for her to think about. "Why? There are things we need there. And even if you don't let us go there, we can always just circle your territory and get there from a different direction." he points out. "And even if we don't?" He makes a motion to himself, Grey and the camp in general. "The others will when they come down unless there's a good reason not to. And they can always just land nearer it. We didn't know anyone was still alive down here." All true even if he left out a shit load.

<FS3> Andromeda rolls 6: Good Success.

"She won't say." That's Grey's response to Morgan's follow-ups, "Just that we were going to Mount Weather. Hell, he," a thumb jerks over his shoulder toward the Big Man, "won't even say that much, so far as I can tell." He lets Morgan levy the threat of more Sky People on the Grounder, then adds, "How about how you make peace with other Grounders? 'Cause right now you're not givin' us a whole lot of reason to let you both go. Whether we release you now, later, or never, there's gonna be a war if we don't stop it. And that means dead on both sides."

In the makeshift cells of the secondary passenger hold, Grey and Morgan are in a rather chilly conversation with the Archer while the Big Dude snores gently on the other side of the parachute. The Archer is seated on the ground, arms winged out at her sides. Morgan is redoing or has finished redoing her bandages, and she has fallen back into that ornery stoic silence. Until Grey asks a question that has her expression revealing that seed of curiosity again. "A summit is called, when both sides have something of merit to offer the other."

Once Wolf Skull's leg wound is clean, Morgan takes a fresh bandage and rewraps it. Then he considers her other major injury. "I can't do much about your shoulder with your arm tied like that. Would you give your word not to get violent if I untie it? I just want to help you and make sure you stay healthy like you did when we were your prisoners."

Fiona swings her way up the ladder, pausing at the top as she to take in the scene. Stepping onto the hold floor, she crosses over to stand next to Grey, though she's watching Morgan and the Archer with a curious expression.

Grey nods slowly at the response from the Grounder, "And how do you call a summit if showin' up in the wrong place gets you shot?" He's starting to relax into the questions, and then Morgan suggests untying the woman, and his features tighten up, "Last time I did that…" he already told Morgan the rest of the story, at least in abbreviated form. He nods to Fiona as one of the guards unbars the hatch in response to her knocking, taking the knife from the small of his back and holding it out to her before he steps up toward where the strap binding the Archer's wrist is tied to a stanchion on the wall.

<FS3> Andromeda rolls 4: Success.

The Archer seems a touch bemused by Morgan's words, but she does offer a small nod of agreement. She apparently is smart enough to count: four — now five with the little skaigurl emerging from the hatch — is not great odds. She lets Grey start to work off her bindings, and when her arm is free and allowed to fall, she releases an unrestrained noise of pain, but manages to bite back anything louder than a sharp groan. She looks up, head tilted aside as she regards Grey. Her lips just peel back a bit from her teeth.

Fiona takes the knife, presuming it's to keep it out of the other woman's hands as she takes up a careful position to study the Archer. Looking from the Grounder to Grey, she can't help but note wryly, "Oh, she likes you." Looking back to both boys, "I heard the answer, but not the question?"

Morgan frowns at the groan of pain and shoots Grey a look. Just what was done to her? Once her arm is free, he steps forward to start unwinding the bandage. "You know…" he says to her. "When we were in the hut, it was pretty obvious you were curious about us. And we're curious about you." He pauses to look at her. "Now, this isn't an offer. We'd need to discuss it before anything happened so this is only a question. Something for you to think about and something for all of us to think about depending on your answer. You'll probably want to sleep on it." Letting that sink in, he glances over at Grey and Fi and the guards a moment before turning back to Wolf Skull. "What if… we let your friend go so he could go back to your people and let them know you're safe and to not attack. What if you gave your word to stick around - peacefully - and in return, you could wander around freely. With an escort but you wouldn't be kept here. And then you could learn about us and we could learn about you. And maybe we'll decide we each have something to give the other and you could then go tell your people." Tossing out that thought, he goes back to unbandaging her shoulder.

Grey tilts his head toward Fiona at her commentary, displaying the bruise on his brow that matches the bruise on the Archer's temple suspiciously well, "Oh, I know. She's got a regular crush on me." Looking back to the Grounder, he snorts loudly, "Easy there, Wild Thing." Without taking his eyes off the Grounder, he holds the binding loosely in both hands, ignoring Morgan's look, "I asked how Grounders make peace with other Grounders." Morgan's offer is met with a flat, "Oh hell no. That's the second stupidest thing I've heard in the last two days, Morgan." There's a beat pause as he considers, "Fourth. And that's a reflection on how much stupid shit I've heard in the last two days."

The Grounder is drawn into sudden, thoughtful silence at the offer Morgan makes. She shifts her gaze from the healer to Grey and Fiona — two she has judged, perhaps not quite fairly, as part of this band of lost boys and girls would-be leadership. Though, since they keep coming up here and asking her the same questions over and over again, she's not entirely convinced of that assumption. She then looks back to Morgan at Grey's reaction

"I feel like we're asking the wrong questions." Fiona remarks, still studying the Archer, but now with a furrow to her brows. She's visibly frustrated, but for now still refrains from making more queries. The two boys have probably never seen her so frustrated as she stalks back and forth like an unsettled tiger.

"And the most stupid think you heard in the last two was doing absolutely nothing and waiting to see what happens." Morgan says, not stopping as he unwinds the bandage. Once it's off, he looks it over then gets the water again. "How many days did it take for you to come get us?" he asks. Rhetorically, since he doesn't wait for an answer. "And you expect her people to be different? They didn't need to track us back here. They already knew where we were and probably how many of us there are. The ship was not quiet coming down. A deaf blind man would have spotted the ship and come to investigate." Now he pauses to look at Grey and Fi. "They did what they did for a reason. We responded for a reason. Now they're going to respond in turn unless something happens to change that." Now he looks back to Wolf Skull. "If she gives her word, it's worth thinking about. If she breaks her word, it tells us what honor means to her people and we learn something anyway." He returns to cleaning the wound. "So, it's something to think about. It would be nice to get an answer so we can discuss it if it's agreeable to you."

"And if she breaks her word, we don't have any prisoners if they do decide to come down here and charge the walls." Grey keeps his attention focused solely on the Archer as he speaks, watching the tension in her shoulders to watch for any hint of a violent reaction. After last time, he's not going to relax while one of her bindings is loose. He does, however, provide a touch more freedom to her arm, more than enough to take some of the pressure from her other shoulder as well. "If you think we're doin' nothin', you're stone cold stupid, Morgan, and I know you ain't that." He nods slightly to Fiona, although his eyes remain on the Grounder, "Personally, I'm still waitin' to hear how the two sides arrange a summit. Flag of truce, or what. Because without that, anyone we send to tell them we want one is just a pincushion waiting to happen, or an escaped prisoner. But I'm also wide open to hearing what you think the right questions are."

The Archer carefully watches the argument unfold with a genuine interest. Her expression does not remain that stoic, stony mask, but instead begins to open up with cautious curiosity. When Grey prompts her, she gives the information without thinking twice — a decision she may regret if her companion was not still snoring on the other side of the parachute. "An unarmed emissary." Beat pause. "And a show of good will." The Grounder tilts her head slightly. "As I said, releasing us is the best option before you, skaikru."

"They killed our people because we crossed the river boundary to Mount Weather. They don't want us to go there. She won't tell us why, just that they don't want us going there. Which means something's there that they don't want us to have." Fiona looks between the two of them. "They kill us, we kill them, and it just goes back and forth and there's nothing to win." She steps closer to the Archer. "We want this to stop. I can't imagine you don't, either. We're not going away, and there are more of us coming." Maybe she wasn't supposed to tell the Archer that, but. "War is not a luxury, it's a necessity for those times when there are no other choices. Our peoples can have a choice. Both just need to make the right one." She looks over at Grey. "In the history books there was a thing that kings used to do. An exchange of hostages. If we release one of them, we could send one of our people - the unarmed emissary, as a show of trust, and with motivation to meet, the two hostages - guests - could be exchanged." It's not quite the same as Morgan's plan, but it both shows trust and keeps cards close to the chest.

"If you agreed to stay so we could learn from each other, would they believe your friend when he told them that? Would it count?" Morgan asks her. "We don't need prisoners. We need…" What was that word he learned in history? When nations sent someone to another country? "We need an ambassador." For all he's speaking to her, he's talking to the other Delinquents. It's similar to what Fi came up with though with a different emphasis.

Grey gives the Archer a very old-fashioned look, the classic 'pull the other one, it's got bells on.' "You can cut out the chorus. We get it, you want to be released." He grunts thoughtfully at the ideas offered up by the other two, nodding just a tiny bit, although he does protest, "What we need is security." Grudgingly, he adds, "The hostage exchange might work though. If we can trust them to play ball." His eyes still on the Archer, he shifts his focus there as well, "That's the question, isn't it. If there's any chance in hell that your people treat us like someone to talk with, or if we're just arrow targets and convenient prisoners for 'em."

The Grounder shrugs. "Uh haza yu shoda teik," she says in dull reply to Grey, the words sharply strung together. Then she regards the other two skaikru with those mossy green eyes. She cannot offer them insight or advice here. It is up to their decision. When she is prompted to promise however, her smile turns sharp. "It would be dishonorable for me to take action if you request a summit," is all she replies.

Morgan cleans out the shoulder wound and starts wrapping it in a fresh bandage. "You're delusional if you think that having two prisoners will keep them from attacking. Them having hostages didn't stop you, did it? Or that the wall will somehow help keep us safe. Do you remember that they have bows and spears? And they know how to CLIMB TREES. We can't build a wall taller than the trees and even if we could we'd just lock ourselves inside it with no food or water. And I'm not saying anything her people don't already know from spying on us since we landed. he gives the Archer a look at her comment and nods. "Honor is important then."

"Stop." Fiona speaks up, looking between the two boys. "You're thinking too suspiciously." she says to Grey, and turns to Morgan. "And you're thinking too trustingly. We need to find the middle ground, and hacking at each other completely undermines our chances at survival. In order to trust, you have to take a chance, but for you to be willing to take a chance, you want to trust. There's a problem ith that." She looks at the Archer. "It would be dishonorable for you to take action, but that could work both ways. You could choose to not take action, if it benefited you and it wouldn't make you dishonorable. You choose your words very carefully. Would your people - what do you call yourselves? - would they even consider your rules to apply to us?"

Grey brings up one hand to 'squeak' out his ear with a finger as the Grounder returns to the unintelligible language, "Didn't catch that." A faint smirk twists his lips, and he shakes it off, half-turning his head toward Morgan, "You're delusional if you don't think I'll do absolutely everything I can to protect my people, no matter how small a thing it is." He blinks then, a frown painting his features, "But that's the real question, isn't it." Nodding his head toward the Archer, and then across the room toward the Big Man, "Why aren't they doin' everything they can to prevent a war?" He shrugs at Fiona, "I'm a Guard, or the nearest thing we got here. It's my job to be suspicious. They call themselves Tree Crew, least, she calls herself that. And we're the Sky Crew, apparently. And that's the real question, isn't it? The one she won't answer, unless she just did in her own language."

"I'm not being too trusting since I'm still trying to get enough info to figure out if I should be." Morgan counters. "Which is why I'm asking her questions. And that is a /very/ good one." One he looks to the Archer for an answer to.

The Archer finally says something that might make the most sense she has said yet, through all the Trigedasleng and precise English alike. "You are on our clans' lands." She cocks her head aside. "Our laws are your laws."

As both boys immediately protest that neither of them are doing what Fiona says they're doing, she can't help it, she just lifts her brows with a faintly meh look to Gideon. Like: BOYS. But on to more important things. "The problem with that is that we don't know your laws. Has it occurred to you that if we knew them, understood them, we might be willing to follow them? We can't respect what we don't know about, much less understand."

Grey snorts at Morgan's protestation, "Oh please, Morgan, you'd be on her dick if she had one." At least he got the right body part to insultingly accuse Morgan of lusting after this time. He bristles immediately at the suggestion that they're accountable to the clan laws, "What about our laws?" Not that they have any, not yet. He shakes that off, however, grumbling and gesturing over toward Fiona with both of his hands still holding onto the strapping tied around the Archer's wrist, acknowledging the point and putting his silent agreement behind it.

"And you'd shock stick her and push her out an airlock if we had one." Morgan retorts. Make love not war! He finishes wrapping the bandage and holds up a finger. "Not done…" Turning, he gets some of the food they haven't been eating and puts it in her hand. "Eat. You need it to heal. Once your friend wakes up, and you convince him not to attack me, I'll take care of him too."

The look Fiona bestows on the Grounder causes a brow to loft ever so slightly. Then the Archer shrugs slightly, as if she really cannot care or doesn't know how to respond to Fiona's prodding. "Then you should not have come down from the Sky." Because it is that freaking simple apparently. She then looks at Grey. "And what exactly are your laws?" The Archer bristles slightly. "I see no order here." Then she is given food, and she takes it, but does not immediately eat.

"That's not something that can be taken back." Fiona shrugs one shouldered at that, before looking back to Morgan and Grey with faint exasperation before turning back to the Archer. "Alright, Tree-Woman." Because remember how you called her Skygirl, lady? "If one of you is released as a show of goodwill, and an unarmed emmisary accompanies them to request a summit while the other remains here as a guest, we show trust by offering the emissary and by putting faith in the good behavior of our guest. Is that a start?" She realizes of course, Gideon could sabotage her at any point, but it all has to start somewhere.

Grey shakes his head at Morgan's response, but he doesn't retort. He looses the strap a little more, to allow the woman the freedom to eat, although he still keeps hold of the end of the former seat belt. "The Big Man? He's a pussy cat compared to her. She's the hellion." A smirk toward the Grounder woman accompanies the description. It's not… entirely an insult. But it's certainly not a compliment. Her question, however, wipes that little smirk off his mouth, "We're workin' on that." And there's something defensive in his language there, "We still managed to capture your ass." As if power makes order. As if two-to-one odds makes power. Ahhh, teenage bravado. He shifts restlessly at Fiona's offer, his lips pressing together at the use of the word 'guest,' and he adds, "This ain't somethin' any one person can just decide. I say it needs a camp vote, if you want to do this before we've got a Senate."

The Archer considers the three before her, her head slightly tilted aside. Whatever she may have said in reply is silenced when Grey brings up that it should be a vote. She takes a moment to eat the offered food, carefully taking only enough to sate instead of fully satisfy. She then takes a step back from the three, offering more space between her and them. "Send your emissary," is all she says.

"Agreed." Morgan says. He always intended on a camp vote once they got answers. "It needs to be discussed and decided on. I'd volunteer to go but…" He looks at Grey and Fi. "I think I'm one of the ones with the most medical training? If so, I don't think I should be unavailable."

"If the camp agrees to it, I'll volunteer to go." Fiona says, watching the Archer as she speaks. "I'm not going to suggest something that dangerous but not be willing to do it myself. If the camp agrees but wants someone else to go, I'll abide by what we decide." She looks between the two boys. "Shall we bring it to the camp?"

"I'd offer to go, but I'm sure you all think I'd try to start a war." That's very dry indeed from Grey. He shrugs a little, "I'd rather get more information. How that sort of thing usually goes, what their laws are about trespassing and revenge, all of that. But that's somethin' for the whole camp to decide, unless you two figure it can wait until after we have a Senate."

"Do we have enough information though?" Morgan asks then shrugs. "There's always going to be more we don't know. And frankly, I expect her people to be coming in force at any time now. I don't think we can wait. I'd have already attacked us."

Reluctantly, Fiona nods. "Have you ever read about how governments were formed in the old world? It takes a long time to get everyone to compromise. And I think we don't have that kind of time either."

Grey grumbles half-heartedly, "I've got my compromise right here…" one hand reaches down to the back of his belt… but Fiona has his knife, and he shrugs eloquently. He doesn't have the might to make right. "All we know is that she said we should send an emissary, and that's how they do things between clans. But that's something we can argue without takin' up her time." Not that the captive has anything else to do. But it's probably also not good to argue or debate in front of prisoners.

"Then we might as well get to it. I think we can wait till she finishes eating though." Morgan says and walks over to look past the parachute curtain to see if the other one has woken up yet.

"Dictatorships seldom end well." Fiona notes to Grey wryly. But she nods in agreement regarding further discussion away from the Grounders.

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