You sat outside the dropship, sorting food peacefully as your fellow convicts bustled about with their own tasks. A part of you wished that you were one of the hunters or foragers that were allowed to leave camp, but since you weren't very good when it came to fighting you were stuck inside the walls.
Once you were done, you dumped the berries into their respective containers and lugged the meat to the smoke house. As you were hanging the meat, a semi-familiar voice caught your attention.
"Hey there, (name),"
"Hi Murphy," you replied, continuing with your job. Murphy took your response as a sign that he could continue.
"So you're stuck on smoke house duty huh?"
You and Murphy didn't talk often, only on occasions when it was necessary, so it almost worried you that he was speaking to you of his own free will.
"Yeah... I'm not very good when it comes to fighting or making weapons, so Bellamy has me sorting."
The felon nodded, poking at a raw deer leg that was dangling from the ceiling.
"Well... I have to go on a hunting trip in a few so I'll see you later, doll."
With that, John Murphy walked out of the house of twigs, leaving you to wonder why he was suddenly so nice to you.
~
That night all 98 of the criminals were back in camp. Most were lingering near the fire as it was freezing outside. You were talking with a few of your friends when a yawn tugged at your lips. You big them both goodnight, standing up to stretch before heading to your tent.
"(name)!"
You spun around to see Murphy jogging up to you. He stopped a few feet away and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Hey, so," he cleared his throat a few times and reached into the pocket of his jacket. "I, uh... I made this for ya'."
His hand reemerged with something metallic. After he placed it in your hand, you inpected it and realized that it was a knife made from discarded metal.
You glanced up at him questioningly.
"Just... you know, in case you ever need to fight... Better safe than sorry, right?"
You smiled down at the violent gift, noticing your initials neatly carved into the side, before looking back up at the flustered teen in front of you.
"Thanks Murphy," you chuckled. "It means a lot."
His pale cheeks began heating up so he quickly turned his gaze to the ground.
"Well, I guess I'll let you get to bed..." he started backing away, tripping over a rock in the process. "Sh*t, I'll... I'll see you in the morning, (name)!"
You smiled, watching the awkward teenager run off to his own tent, your fingers gliding over the makeshift weapon slowly.
Murphy wasn't much of a people person, so you knew it was probably difficult (and awkward) for him to give anybody a gift.
You stepped into your tent, placing the knife in your discarded combat boot before lying down to get some sleep.
