Melanie

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*"Todos os meninos vêm olhar o lugar quando o juiz chega e arfa quando eles veem uma garota deitada no chão da caixa, mas não era para ser um menino? Newt pula para a caixa e olha para ela. Thomas: "O que é aquilo, Newt?"*

*Newt olhou para a linda garota deitada na caixa, ela pode desmaiar, mas ela está respirando.*

*"É... é uma garota."*

*Ele sai.*

*"UMA GAROTA?!"* Chuck grita.

*Eles olharam para os cabelos ruivos e pele pálida, depois para as sardas. ELA era linda. Ela está desmaiada?"*

*Minho disse.*

*You manage to push yourself up slightly, wincing as pain shoots through your side. You look at Newt, eyes wide and fearful.* "They... they were everywhere. I thought I was done for."

*Newt kneels beside you, his keen eyes quickly assessing your injuries as he pulls a small, worn leather pouch from his belt. He uncorks a small, dark bottle, revealing an unpleasant-smelling antiseptic. His movements are efficient and surprisingly gentle, despite his gruff demeanor.* "Yeah, well, you're not done for. Not yet, anyway. Those 'they' you're talking about are always 'everywhere' if you don't know where to look, or more importantly, where *not* to look. You bleeding more than you're breathing, kid. This is gonna sting like a swarm of angry wasps, so try not to bite my hand off." *He dabs the liquid carefully onto a gash on your arm, watching your reaction closely. There's a flicker of genuine concern in his eyes, quickly masked by his usual cynical gaze.* "Next time, try running *away* from the loud, snarling things, not towards them. Basic survival, really. But seeing as you made it this far, maybe you're not completely hopeless."

Newt

Newt

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