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[fancypost bgcolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; letter-spacing:5px][align=center][font=bookman oldstyle][color=black]Clyde Dane O'Riley[hr][size=8][/fancypost]
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[justify][font=times][color=black][sup][sup]The coming footsteps were not heard as the two exchanged in a fair trade, both giving to receive something they wanted. One wanted, another needed as they briefly answered one another's questions under their breath. The walls listening to their secret conversation and soaking it in like a thief. The objects concealed away within their jacket pockets after the quick deal was made in the center of the silent hall. Both boys beginning to walk away without granting a good parting, knowing there were no heart feelings. It was strictly business and not anything more to the two. Another successful deal made with no witness to their unlawful act, until relief flooded through their systems. Until the footsteps were made known and there was no where to flee.
Standing as she slowly woke, Clyde watched her carefully with a tight grip still on the handgun. There was no reason for the handgun besides an extra cautionary measure if the restraints on her wrists and ankles were to break away. But she was a small young girl who proved her lack in strength after struggling against the restraints for a few short moments. They had her secure with thick rope and seat belts taken from the seats on the drop ship. However, Clyde couldn't help but remain weary around her, for she was no more than a wild animal that couldn't be tamed. And because of that, many were open to not questioning her at all, but instead killing her and leaving her body to rot outside of the gate.
"No," Clyde spoke, silencing Jefferson and Xavier, who stood guard against the others who were desperate for revenge against the grounders. Xavier too wanted revenge, letting out a breath as Clyde made it clear that they would not be torturing her. "We're going to get answers out of her the civilized way." Xavier scoffed, shaking his head with a smirk stretching across his lips. Clyde was too gentle in his eyes, even though he questioned the girl with a stern tone that meant business. "What's your name?" he questioned, taking a step towards her. She smelled of sweat and blood, and an underlaying scent of tree bark and bush. "She probably doesn't have one." remarked Xavier, followed by a soft chuckle from Jefferson.
Bringing his hand up in the air, he moved on after the long moments of silence proved defiance. Or, perhaps she didn't have a name. Even more, perhaps she didn't understand English. He had, after all, never heard a grounder speak. But he carried on, asking, "Why were you sneaking around the outside of our camp?" She could've been up to many things, but the sole purpose was unknown. Perhaps spying on them, planning an attack, or planning to take hostages. It was a good thing they managed to capture her when they did, Clyde couldn't help but think. They had enough problems as it was.