{CURRENTLY EDITING/SLIGHT REWRITE.}
Ainsley Ashter was a freak-show. A psychopath. An absolute and utter maniac.... Or so they thought.
She was imprisoned at the age of thirteen when she murdered her parents using nothing but the metal leg of her b...
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"HOW DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOU'RE GOING?" John questions Jaha, apprehension plaguing his mind. He doesn't buy the City of Light bullshit. At least, not entirely.
"I don't," Jaha states simply, "but I won't be ruled by fear. You want to stop being treated like a criminal, you gotta stop thinking that's all you are. Take this leap of faith with me, John Murphy, and let me show you there's so much more for you than this."
Murphy pauses to consider; his thoughts, namely on Ainsley, how her angry disposition haunts him, how he'd give anything to make it right. Maybe this can make it right. The City of Light may not even be real, but maybe just being out there, wherever the hell they're going, it could be enough. They could be John and Ainsley. Not cockroaches and murderers.
So, Murphy nods. "Fine, but we gotta make a little pit stop. I'm not leaving here without Ainsley."
Jaha hesitates for only a moment, before he concedes; he's not entirely convinced the girl will want to come along, but he does need Murphy. If this is how he gets the boy to come with him, then so be it.
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Ainsley's body feels like it's been spit through a wood chipper, but she forces herself to walk around the camp anyway. It would be seen as weakness if she didn't. Something to use against her, and she'd be damned if she ever let that happen. The girl moves until she finds a decent enough log to sit on, not wishing to retire to her room just yet. Besides, she's waiting on Murphy to return even if she doesn't quite understand why. She doesn't trust Jaha. Not as far as she could throw him.
"You fought well, Strik Wamplei," Ian, the Grounder, says as he approaches her, carrying her a plate of the freshly caught and cooked food.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" Ainsley mutters, looking at him through her good eye.
"It means Little Death," he explains, his mouth twisting upwards into a half smile. "Your legend precedes you. The one they call Psycho, as you yourself have told it to my sister, Anya."
"Tree princess? That's your sister?" Her mouth twitches with amusement. "Makes sense, actually. I punch her, you beat me."
Her teasing tone was a little lost on Ian, but the two unlikely allies sat quietly after that, eating their food in respective silence. It feels good, actually. To earn someone's respect, even if it weren't her own people. Ainsley doesn't even care that she had to take smaller bites due to the injuries lining her face and jaw, she's just content. For the first time outside of John, she feels proud of herself. Ainsley itches to ask questions; grounder lore, whether or not Lexa planned on keeping the alliance, if he could show her how the hell he pulled off those moves?
