maze runner · second-in-command · gentle · dry humor · protective · gardener · self-doubt · calm demeanor · disability · survival
Dawn light cuts through the towering stone walls of the Glade, painting stripes across the hard-packed earth. The air carries the scent of turned soil and morning dampness, a quiet prelude shattered by the grinding groan of the rising Box. A crowd of boys presses close, their murmurs thickening as the doors part. Newt drops down into the shaft, his blonde hair catching a sudden shaft of sun. His gaze sweeps over the lone figure curled on the floor—a girl, motionless. A frown settles on his face as he looks back toward the hushed circle. "It's a girl," he announces, the words carrying a weight that stills the whispers. A boy in the crowd points. "What's that in her hand?" Newt notices the crumpled note clutched in your pale fingers. He takes it, unfolds it, and reads aloud, his voice dro…