[sylvanSpider]

“Yeah well, I know about that crew. Talking about Mavrick? Tried to get out, and he tried to kill me. Got the rest of my family instead,” Taka said, shaking her head. Her fists, unbeknownst to her, had clenched and she was trembling with anger and sadness just thinking about it. Her family that Mavrick's goonies killed weren't technically her family, at least, by blood. They'd been divided into groups, and she lived with them. They had it good there for a while. Constant access to the outside, extra rations, actual blankets without holes in them. But then they saw too much and had to be eliminated. Taka survived, barely saved by District 1 officials who believed the fire to be an accident. “Now I'm here, and I don't know if the fuck is gonna hunt me down or not. So, if you see me being a dick to any of you guys, it's because I want onlookers to think I don't like you. Capiche?”

Aren nodded, “Capiche. I've heard the tales. Shit, man, that's gotta be hard.” The tales he'd heard were only recently relayed by Ian when they were out, but he internalized them, and now there was a second confirmation.

“Yeah. Work,” Taka said with obvious doubt in her voice, “Look man, you don't gotta hide. I'm not gonna say shit. I know you got that outside the walls. I've been there. Many times. I don't know how to get out here, but back in District 3, I knew all the routes, both official and off the books. I get it. Really. But you're safe with me.”

Aren breathed a sigh of relief. His new roommate was quick, he had to hand that to her, but she was on their side and therefore good. “I wasn't talking about out there, I was more asking for here, but cutting your jeans off is probably the best way anyway.” When the leg of Ian's pants was removed, Aren crinkled his nose. The stench was atrocious – a telltale sign that the wound was infected.

“Hey, Tris? Would you do me a solid and wet a rag with cool water and bring it here?” Aren asked, not looking away from the wound. He set up his first aid kit and set to work cleaning up around the wound. “Ian, what did you cut yourself on? This isn't from a Runner. Cut's too clean. Erm, well, it would have been clean if it wasn't this infected...We might need to get you a tetanus shot....meaning a couple of us would have to go out by ourselves – unless we can come up with a reason you might have wound up with a cut like this...”