Rain fell from the sky the following day. The sky sporting angry looking grey clouds with black smears across them, foreshadowing a heavier storm. Now, the rain was a light drizzle that froze your body and encouraged you to stay inside the safety of the tents.
You shivered as a cold drop of water slipped down your back and chilled your body. You hadn't thought of bringing your trustworthy cloak, fearing that it would get caught while using the maneuvering gear Anthony had stolen.
The worn out straps, some of them already fraying under constant use, rubbed against your clothes and skin from the rain, causing irritation. You grit your teeth and hugged yourself, trying to save some extra heat as you trudged through the rain, away from the forest.
You saw the figure of the boy named Lark in the distance, his willowy figure easily recognizable in the grey morning.
His hood was pulled up over his head, beads of water slipping from the material as he lifted a piece of damp wood from the pile. Lark had always had an exceptional gift with hearing, but what skill he made up with his ears, he lacked in his eyesight. He squinted in the rain, his light brown eyes coming into thin slits as you stomped through the undergrowth.
"Is that you, Little Kestrel?" His delicate, musical sounding voice called out.
You rolled your eyes at the nickname and edged closer to him.
"Yeah. It's me."
A crooked smile tugged at his lips, his eyes returning to their normal rounded size. Though he was nearly blind, his eyes still could pinpoint your shivering form.
"I thought I heard those little footsteps of yours, Kestrel," he hummed, the sound mimicking the tinkling of bells. "What are you doing out here in this part of camp? I never see you here."
You snorted and crossed your arms, watching Lark continue lifting the wood and setting it beneath the makeshift tarp he had made to keep the wood dry.
"Maybe I was exploring." You huffed, stepping even closer to Lark.
The tall, skinny boy let out a light breathy laugh and bent down to pick up another sodden piece of wood.
"I may not be able to see your face very well anymore Little Kestrel, but I can tell when you're lying."
Your grunted and dug your boot into the muddy ground, upset how easily Lark had seen through you. He began to hum, the tune a familiar song to your ears.
His head swayed slightly to his own tune, his whiskey orbs focusing on his task, not bothered by the water soaking his clothes.
You had never heard anyone sing before you had met Lark, the notes and fluctuations of his voice left you awe the first time you heard him sing. No matter how many times he sang the same tune, it could never grow old for you.
You sighed and noticed you had been shivering the whole encounter with Lark. You swore softly and rubbed your hands together for some shred of heat.
"Are you cold, Little Kestrel?" Lark hummed, pausing the melody.
He placed the wood down before pulling down his hood and unclasping the fabric of his faded out cloak. Lark's arm stretched out to you with the fabric in his slender hands and smiled, his large brown eyes sparkling.
At first you protested him giving you his only source of protection against the icy droplets, insisting he needed it more than you did. He just shook his head and took a stride forward and placed it upon your shoulders, the warmth of his own body still lingering. The comforting and familiar smell of tree sap and juniper filling your nostrils as you adjusted it.
You mumbled a thank you, in which Lark responded with a pat on your damp head. You squeaked at his gentle touch. The only other one who patted your head like that was Thomas. The very same boy who you had been avoiding today. You sighed and wiped off a stray bead of water that dribbled down the side of your cheek.
"Lark?"
"Yes, Little Kestrel?" Lark purred, unfazed by the deathly cold rain staining his dark grey undershirt and plastering his tawny brown hair to his skin.
"You asked what I was doing here?"
The boy nodded slowly.
"Yes..I believe I did."
"Im avoiding Thomas."
His head tilted to the right and stared blankly at you.
"Whatever for, Little Kestrel?"
You shrugged and gripped the material of his cloak a bit tighter.
"I yelled at him."
"Ahh," Lark nodded. "No matter, you are friends after all, yes?"
"I suppose.." You mumbled, the word to describe you and Thomas sounding alien to your ears.
You exhaled a breath of air you had been holding and moved to return Lark's cloak, your frozen digits fumbling over the clasp.
"Keep it." He said, his crooked smile forming upon his chapped lips.
You raised an eyebrow at the boy and craned your neck to fully face him, the boy towered over you easily.
"You'll get sick, Lark." You said, rolling your eyes.
"Keep it," Lark insisted, his voice lowering in seriousness. "I don't need it anymore, (F/n)."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise upon hearing your name fall from his lips, your actual name, not the name given to you here.
"O-okay then." You whispered, a strange feeling welling up inside you at Lark's words.
"Hurry along, Little Kestrel." He then said, his usual tone sliding back into place and resuming his chore with the wood.
You shuddered and brushed past him, mumbling a goodbye and hugging his cloak tighter around your shoulders, a few twigs snagging on your pants as you walked.
After the encounter with Lark you soon made your way back to home base, a light fog settling around the clearing. You spotted Finch, a small boy around your age, sharpening a thin blade. His matted blond hair stuck out in odd angles, suggesting he had just woken up. His bored downturned blue eyes rested on you, his hands coming to a rest.
"Hey, Little Kestrel." He said, his voice low and ruff, complete opposite of Lark's melodious, airy way of speaking.
After you had weaved in and out of the multiple little tents littered across the clearing, Finch no longer in view, you hovered near your own. Thomas was sitting expectantly outside, the brown grass being ripped from their roots as he tore them from the ground in boredom, as he waited for you.
A swell of guilt burst inside you seeing the thin eyed boy patiently wait for you even after what happened the other day. The urge to turn around and avoid Thomas once again was strong, but you clenched your fists and stepped out behind the other flimsy tent near yours.
"Hey." You greeted weakly, your (e/c) orbs settling on Thomas's slightly squared face.
The boy jumped in surprise and stood up quickly, his lips forming a tight line.
"(F/n)," he breathed. "I was looking for you."
"Aren't you always?" You teased, pushing past your friend and entering your small living space.
He shuffled in after you and huffed, taking a seat on the laid out blankets that doubled as your bed. His worried black eyes landed on the faded, and entirely too big, cloak upon your shoulders and raised an eyebrow at you.
"Really, (F/n)?" He snorted. "You decided to hide out with The Giant?"
You rolled your eyes and folded your arms across your chest, a whiff of Lark's scent reaching your nose.
"Don't call him that."
"Alright, fine. The Scarecrow."
"No."
"Sentient Tree?"
"Thomas." You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance.
"What? Im just joking." He chuckled, a smirk tugging at his lips.
You glared at him harshly and sighed exasperatedly.
"I didn't know you two still talked after what happened with Anthony." Thomas said casually, the smirk slipping away.
A new stab of guilt pierced your soul, the memory you tried so hard to keep buried inside your mind each time you saw the tawny haired boy, springing to life once again.
The horrifying screams of Lark echoed inside your ears as you remembered why he was nearly blind. It was all your fault. It was your fault for letting Lark try and help you escape Anthony's endless torture for you when you were only six years old.
Of course Lark didn't blame you, but every time you gazed into his soft brown eyes, you were reminded how much pain the boy endured for you.
You.
A silly little girl who still hoped for the day she could see Thomas and herself live in a titanless world, safe.
You shook your head and expelled the thoughts from your head, returning your gaze to your dark eyed friend.
"Yeah. We do." You answered, a tinge of sadness lacing your words.
Thomas shrugged and stood, the black haired boy standing at least five inches taller than you. Nowhere near as tall as Lark, but still tall compared to you.
Thomas opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a loud BOOM and a scream following a second afterwards.
You both gave each other a surprised glance before sprinting out of your tent, the two of you heading separate ways into the small maze of tents.
The deformed figure of a grinning titan hovered over where you last saw Finch. The thick digits of the titan easily picking up the blond boy and holding him in its grasp. Finch let out terrified screams as he was lowered to the open jaws of the titan. Horrified, you stumbled and tripped over yourself, watching as Finch was devoured in a mere matter of seconds.
The titan stood to its full height, its greasy black hair brushing in front of its dead, uncaring eyes while blood dripped from its mouth. You had seen this before, but you couldn't find the courage to move as the titan spotted your frozen form on the ground. Panic flooded into your veins and you shot up from the ground, a thought forming in your mind.
The maneuvering gear! Shit! I left it in Wren's tent! Shit. Shit. Shit.
The titan made a grab for you, which you just barely dodged and rolled onto your shoulder and continued sprinting to your only salvation.
Where the fuck are Raven and Anthony?! They're the Insiders here, they should be helping us!
Suddenly a hand grasped the back of your collar and then you were pulled back into a tent.
Where you had just been standing was crushed by a giant foot.
A hand that smelt like wood, covered your scream of surprise and pulled you away from the titan's eyes, the scream of Wren catching its attention instead.
Your heart beat wildly inside your ribs, certain that it would burst from your body.
"Not so quick on your feet are we, Little Kestrel?" Lark whispered into your ear. You let out a sigh of relief as he removed his hands, the lanky boy's eyes even larger with fear.
He pushed something into your shaking hands and held your shoulders firmly, his form bending down to your eye level.
"Little Kestrel, you listen very closely, alright?" He whispered, the hint of fear present in his bell-like voice.
You nodded, lost for words.
"Find Thomas and run. Don't look back. Just head for the Walls, okay?"
You mouth gaped like a fish at Lark. His normally soft eyes hardened into something fierce and shook you.
"You hear me, (F/n)?" He growled, snapping you from your shock.
You nodded and gripped the item that Lark had given you moments before, so tightly your knuckles turned white.
He nodded and flung himself over to a familiar contraption. With the speed of a skilled soldier, he buckled on your gear and placed his hands on your shoulders once more.
"I will see you again, Little Kestrel." He whispered, gripping you tight. "Stay safe."
You swore you could see the wet sheen of tears in his large eyes that matched the color of the wood he carried earlier. The ring of gold that encircled his pupil reminded you of the sunrises you had watched nearly everyday. You'd never thought you'd say goodbye to Lark.
Tears stung at your eyes as the tawny haired boy placed his chapped lips against the crown of your head and mumbled words that you couldn't understand then. He was gone the second later, his tinkling vocals shouting in haste to lead the monster away from you.
Wiping away a salty tear you sniffed, this was no time to cry.
Putting on your game face on and forcing away your emotions, you sprinted from your cover, the weight on your hips dragging you down slightly.
Your (e/c) hues spotted the hunched over form of Thomas, a spike of terror filled you when he wasn't moving.
Screaming out his name you grabbed his collar. He wasn't dead, but shell-shocked, as he held the bloody and broken form of Wren in his arms. Screaming his name again you wrenched your eyes away from the girl and dragged him away, the pain registering as you slammed him against the ground and woke him from his paralysis.
"(F-f/n)?"
"We have to go!" You shouted, your voice shaky and taut.
You snatched his hand and held on with an iron grip and stumbled away from Wren's mangled corpse.
The booming footsteps of the titan that changed your life so quickly was set on Lark. The tawny haired boy shouting and waving his arms as he ran away from his former home with a titan in pursuit.
You knew if you looked any longer you would desert Thomas and try to save Lark, but you knew that would end up in all of your deaths and Lark's efforts to save you both would be in vain.
Bitting your lip until you could taste blood, you ran. You ran past the second titan that was en route to your former home, sprinting through its legs and increasing your speed. You heart pounded in your ears, your small legs already burning with the excess weight of half dragging Thomas and the 3DMG.
Everything was a blur, questions and adrenaline pumping through you.
Why weren't Raven and Anthony there? Why did Lark have my gear? Did he know that the titans were coming?! Did he plan this so we could escape?!
Your lungs screamed for more air as you ran away from everything you knew. The forest, your tent, your friends...Anthony...
You grit your teeth and nearly fell, but regained your balance and continued running. You hoped Anthony got eaten or crushed. He deserved it.
You didn't know how long you were running for or where you were going, the only cue was the constant fumbling of the boy behind you and the rocky terrain beneath your boots. A cry of pain left Thomas, his weight bringing you down with him. A yelp of surprise left your lungs, the last thing your panicked (e/c) orbs saw were the sharp, grey rocks before darkness and silence took over.
I know Im very vaugue and haven't mentioned, like, anything about Anthony or Raven, but they are going to come in to play later! Same with Lark, he's part of your past, which will be revealed in later chapters!! Thank you so much for reading!