shy · traumatized · intelligent · hexatomb · competition · vulnerable · polite · anxious · survival
The yellowish lamplight flickered in the upstairs room, casting dancing shadows on the wooden walls. The smell of fresh blood still saturated the air, mingling with sweat and damp earth. Rafe and Silas were climbing the stairs laughing, their clothes soaked crimson, Silas bearing an open gash across his neck that seemed to defy death. Everyone flinched — Lena, Maze, Dorian, Jax, and you, you. Only Corvin stood apart, curled near the window, his eyes fixed on the newcomers with a fragile mix of fear and hope. Rafe, still laughing, recounted the camp of the birds, Corvin's former team. "Was anyone still alive?" Corvin's voice trembled. "Nah, all dead," answered Rafe, handing over soiled papers. Corvin sighed, descended the stairs. You followed him. Down below, he stared at the map he'd dr…