𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐒 ⌯ Newt [The Maze Runner]

[0.29] survival skills

          𝒀𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒚 fades away in the Glade, giving in to the quiet of night. Rue, however, can't find peace. She's restless. And the relentless tossing and turning in her hammock proves futile.

After what seems like an eternity, she settles with a defeated sigh. It seems sleep eludes her tonight.

With another frustrated sigh, sounding deep in her throat, she slips out of her hammock, feet touching the cool ground. The hammock area is silent, with only the occasional rustling of leaves or the distant murmur of someone's sleep-talk sounding in the dead of night.

She treads softly, the maze of hammocks and shanties guiding her toward the outskirts and into the main region of the Glade. As she steps into the open, the night continues to swallow her hole.

Only the glow from a lone firepit lights the darkness, so it naturally catches her attention. And she recognizes Gally with little difficulty; he's usually one to stay up later than the others. Now, he sits by the dwindling flames, the embers casting flickering shadows on his face. His eyes are fixated on the dancing flames, lost in contemplation.

She approaches, the crunch of leaves beneath her feet announcing her arrival. He glances up at the sound, cracking a tight-lipped smile. He pats the space beside him. He's always found himself more welcoming to her than anyone else's in the Glade. His sharp tone just naturally gets a smoother edge.

And without a word, the girl settles down.

The fire crackles, its warmth a comforting contrast to the cool night air. She extends her hands toward the flames, the flickering light casting dancing shadows across her face. The firepit becomes a sanctuary, a place where the weight of her thoughts can be shared in the quiet company of another.

Gally, though not known for his verbosity, seems to sense her need for company. He respects the silence, allowing her the space to find words or solace in the quiet.

As Rue stares into the fire, the images from her days here surge through her mind. The shifting walls, the haunting grievers, the echoes of her own fears, her fragmented memories—all play out in the shadows cast by the firelight. She feels a pang of anxiety, a yearning for the clarity that seems to elude her.

After a while, Gally's low voice cuts through the silence. "Can't sleep either, huh?"

Rue meets his gaze, her eyes soft despite the disquiet within. "Too much on my mind."

Gally nods slowly, his gaze returning to the fire. He's never been the best at speaking his mind, let alone at making someone else speak theirs.

They sit in the flickering glow of the fire, surrounded by the encompassing darkness of the Glade. The rhythmic crackling of the embers punctuates the quiet, creating a soothing backdrop to the weighty silence between them.

Rue finds herself tracing the contours of the carved heart pendant that Chuck had given her, the smooth wood beneath her fingertips a source of tactile comfort. Gally, too, seems lost in his own thoughts, his gaze unfocused as he watches the play of flames.

Rue takes a tentative step into vulnerability. "Do you ever just wonder...?" Her words trail off, hesitant.

Gally glances at her, his expression guarded but open to whatever she might share. The subtle encouragement in his gaze prompts Rue to continue.

"About who you were before all this? I mean, we must've had parents, maybe even siblings..."

Gally's eyes hold a depth of understanding, a silent acknowledgment that he, too, has grappled with those thoughts. He shifts, the shadows accentuating the lines on his face.