RELENTLESS || NEWT, TMR [1]

[004]: SHADOWED COLLISION

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CHAPTER FOUR;
[ SHADOWED COLLISION ]
[RELENTLESS || NEWT]

   LUCAS AWOKE TO THE RUMBLE OF HIS STOMACH AND THE TIGHT grip of Clint's slender fingers sitting on his shoulders. He groggily opened his eyes and moaned with disapproval at the touch; he could already feel tiredness leaking into his muscles as he raised his fingers to wipe away at his eyes. Lucas wanted more sleep, but he knew that it wouldn't be possible, yet he still found himself turning away from Clint's unfavorable presence. "A few more minutes, please." Lucas' voice was scratchy and coated with hope as he mumbled the words into his pillow.

"Can't do that, greenbean." Clint's voice was fabricated by obvious tiredness and slight annoyance. "Breakfast is out in ten, better get there before these nasty slintheads grab the best servings."

Lucas whined in disapproval but pushed himself upwards nonetheless. He removed the blanket that hung off his hips and laid back on his elbows. He spotted Jeff in the corner washing his face, his eyes puffy and flickering within the shadow of the rising sun. "Can I miss?"

"You'll regret it." He said back. "Did that once and I couldn't even make it through the morning."

Lucas let out a prolonged sigh as he finally sat up fully. He knew he was right, plus, he was feeling a bit too hungry at the moment. "Think I should check my bandages now or wait?"

"Wait." Jeff replied. "You're relying too much on that cane too, needa lay off it a bit so you don't become too dependent on it."

Lucas rolled his eyes and grabbed at the wood laying by this bedside, completely ignoring Jeff's advice. He'd rather feel stable whilst walking rather than wondering when he'd collapse from sudden bursts of pain. Clint held open the door for him as he wobbled out the hut, his eyes squinted at the brightening sky. It was still lightly dark out, but not dark enough to carry a torch.

He noticed that there were already quite a few gladers making their way towards the small hut of food. They were abandoning their hammocks and waking friends with hesitant words and soft tones. Lucas instantaneously noted that plenty of the boys seemed rather close and had become friends with only select others during their stay, often only saying mornin' to those around them. He wondered how long they had been in the glade. Long enough to act like siblings, he assumed.

Lucas found himself squashed between Clint and another brunette when they stepped into line for food. He leaned on his cane and let his eyes wander once again, a habit of his he began to pick up on when left alone to his thoughts; he noticed that Frypan, the cook, wasn't the only one distributing food. There were four others serving and handing out the meal, that of which was bread, potatoes, green beans, and some form of meat he couldn't identify from afar. Lucas found himself craving a meal he couldn't remember, a meal cooked by a faceless figure. He shook his head and shuffled forward. He could not be nostalgic about something long erased and forgotten.