That perches in the soul

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The dark haired girl flinched from the volume of Newt's voice, drawing the attention of the honey haired boy.

He frowned at her obvious terror as she clutched a leather pack to her chest.

Her breathing was erratic and she lay on her side, her shoulder twisted oddly beneath her. Newt was no medic but he knew what a dislocated shoulder looked like.

He took a step towards her and she let out an ear piercing shriek which was answered from somewhere nearby. The answering shriek was what worried Newt, he knew those calls. The shrill, grating sounds were unmistakably those of griever and they were closer then Newt had ever heard them.

He lunged for the raven haired beauty, clapping his hand over her mouth as she prepared to shriek again.

He wrapped his arms around her as she struggled, the blood on her skin making it difficult to hold on to her. She clawed at the hand over her mouth and Newt felt the skin on his hand tear but he refused to let go.

Isla pov:
The girl huffed a sigh then clamped her teeth down on the flesh of his palm. When she was younger she had filed her incisors to razor sharp  points for this kind of situation so they sliced right into his skin, his blood pooling in her mouth.
Needless to say, the blondie snatched his hand away.

"Hkpluurrgh! That was disgusting!" Isla groaned after spitting the blood out.

It was at that moment Fala burst through the door in a whirlwind of pincer like legs and unholy shrieks and splintered wood.

Newt pov:
"You're late." She rolled her eyes and the griever clicked something out to her to which she responded with a silent middle finger. "Let's go before the others come running Fala."

Swinging herself into what appeared to be a saddle on the griever's back, the girl clicked at the griever, gave it a light kick to the body and Newt watched it take off across the glade through the hole where the kitchen door used to be.

"Frypan's gonna kill me!" Newt groaned rolling onto his back. There was no chance the gladers would believe him if he said he saw a girl trying to rob them and then she rode off on a griever that she could speak to.

The pain of all the little cuts from the glass and ceramics hit suddenly and all Newt could hope was that the girl had medical supplies and wouldn't get an infection.

Isla pov:
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuckety fuck! He saw me! Fala, they know I exist now!" Isla screeched, the griever ignored her. "Unless they don't believe him. I mean, who would believe that there's a girl my age living on top of the maze and riding grievers? They won't believe him right?" Fala gave a huff of annoyance which pretty much translated to: shut up or I'll dump you in the maze.

"Fine, I'm sorry. I'm just kinda stressed." The days until her sixteenth birthday were dwindling and Isla was worried that she wasn't ready to save Aris yet. "But do you really think they won't believe him?"

A/N: a bit shorter, sorry for all the pov changes, for anyone who doesn't know, pov means point of view.
But more backstory in this one, Newt seems interested. 😏

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