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𝑺𝑯𝑬 𝑷𝑼𝑵𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑫 𝑯𝑰𝑴. Fist digging into his jaw — chin tipping up as he stumbled back. He spat, blood spraying from his lips. There was a pause, where no one said anything. The shock of her strength had them silenced, but none were as shocked as she was.
She stared at her hand, numb with the surprise. She punched him — and well. It wasn't flimsy and weak, she drew blood. And the terrifying thing was, her knuckles weren't searing with pain. But they were hot, like she had tiny coals instead of knuckles. And instead of burning, the sensation was oddly pleasant. She swallowed, then dared a glance upwards.
The boy was grinning, wiping his mouth messily as he took a step forwards. She moved back automatically, flinching. He froze, turning to look over his shoulder. She caught Alby nod again.
"That was a pretty good punch," he smiled, turning back to her and swallowing. His voice was gentle. "Got a name?"
She hesitated, then nodded.
"Care to share?" There were a few chuckles.
She swallowed again. "Artemis." Her voice was barely a whisper. She breathed out.
"Sorry? Didn't catch that." He leaned closer, cupping his ear. It was mocking. Infuriating.
"Artemis." She spat, annoyed. Her eyes narrowed.
"She speaks!" Someone yelled. There was more laughter.
"Where am I?" Her quiet voice trampled the mirth. There was a thick silence — Newt and Alby exchanged glances. "What's going on?" She tried, heart thudding, panicky against her chest. It was so loud in her ears, she was sure the others could hear it.
"You're in the Glade —" the stocky blond continued, amused. He said it slow, like he was trying to spell it out for her on the other side of a fogged up window. She silenced him before the laughter could build.
"Shut up." There was a low whistle.
"She's a feisty one!" Her eyes narrowed; there was another muffled slap.
"She said shut up, you idiot!"
"Who are you?" She demanded quietly, ignoring the outburst.
"We're not going to hurt you." Newt stepped forwards as she shifted her gaze onto him. He froze at her hostility. "Look, I won't come any closer, see?" He planted his feet firm, hands raising in surrender. His voice too, was gentle. Soft like warm ice. She relaxed slightly.
