𝐓𝐖𝐎. no one's alone

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✵ . ˚ ✺ . ・ *。 ✧ ˚ . ⊹ ☽
⌈ 𝙶𝙾𝙳𝙳𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝚄𝙽𝚃 ⌋
   TWO — no one's alone

 ⊹  ☽       ⌈ 𝙶𝙾𝙳𝙳𝙴𝚂𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝚄𝙽𝚃 ⌋       TWO  —  no one's alone

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˚ .・*。༄ THE SUN WAS NEAR SUNSET by the time Noah arrived at her home, a tiny plume of smoke still rising from the days old camp fire.

Noah liked to think she had it pretty good at her little camp. Her shuttle was big enough for a bed to be pushed against a wall, a bed being two blankets, and a jacket as a pillow. Two candles sat wedged onto a small shelf on a wall, half burnt through. And the other side was barely enough space for a small workbench she built out of scrap metal and wood. Wires and motherboards from the ship scattered on top of it, waiting to be built into something.

A box had been shoved underneath of the table, holding packets of dried food in case of emergency, gauze, antibiotics, and a small canteen of liquor that she opened on her 18th birthday.

She even found a way to hang things from the wall in front of her. Two photos had been hung, one of Raven Reyes, an old friend off of the ark, and the other of Indigo.

A few drawings of her own were hung as well, one of a Reaper she had fought once. She had every tattoo and scar drawn perfectly. The knots in its hair and then blood on its lips. It was more than easy to draw it, since the damn thing haunted her for a good few months.

Another drawing was one Indigo had given her, right before he left for his solo mission. It was one of Noah herself. Her hair in the same ponytail she always had, wearing a training uniform from the ark. The drawing had less cuts and bruises than she had now, and Noah had gotten a bit thinner than then. Though, starvation did that to you.

Outside was her little camp fire, a little spit built over it for cooking. Something she'd gotten pretty decent at, especially with finding new trade posts recently. Spiced were a god send when all you ate was preserved deer meat and wild onions.

It was no Ark dropship, but it was enough for her. She could even close the door to the shuttle when winter came around.

She tossed her bow onto the workbench, hanging her quiver on a jutting out piece of metal. She dropped herself into the chair attached to the wall, the one she sat in on the trip down to earth.

And with a sigh, she held her face in her hands.

Four years alone and now she suddenly had 100 people within a mile of her. People the grounders certainly wouldn't let live. And, if push came to shove, they might even blame Noah for their arrival, throwing off the very sensitive scale they had. Noah already had a hard time bargaining her own safety.

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