It was a good flight; for the first time since their escape, Mal could feel the sun soaking into her feathers, and the dark wings sucked up the sunlight like a pair of solar panels. She made a little game out of scanning the ground below her: what was the best color of car she saw? To her disappointment, most of them were shades of gray; black, silver, white, red. Boring colors. She saw a few nicer ones, but most of them were samey. She grumbled something indistinct, snapping her eyes back up to the horizon and resuming her horizon watch.

Then, of course, the city loomed ahead of them. It really was big; she had no idea how many people were living there, but she began to wonder if it was a bad idea to come here. Just imagining being around all of those people in a tight, enclosed space was starting to make her skin crawl, and regret seeded into her mind for a moment before she shook her head a little bit, teeth clenched up. Dig your heels in and don't back down, Mal, she growled to herself, flapping her wings a few time to surge forwards and draw just behind Flick.

And then...then...

Flick showed them where they should land, and she swore. Loudly. And excessively. As far as she could tell, there weren't any large clearings that didn't look like they were inhabited by something or other, and she didn't want to take the risk of landing outside of the trees and walking into them. Too conspicuous. So in the end, her enormous wings were going to have to find a gap to slip between trees. And that was going to be less than fun for a number of reasons.

Following Flick, she yanked her wings nearly all the way in, pulling into a steep dive, and cussed all the way down to the treeline.

She tried to slide in all graceful like Flick. She really did. But her wings were just too big. As she turned in, she caught a tree with her wing and yelped before she could control herself, spiralling down the remaining twenty or so feet to the ground. After a moment, she stood up, spitting out leaves, and glared at the tree. She wasn't hurt. Her pride was the real casualty here.

---

---

He lagged behind, like always. It was as much habit as it was sulking, but his annoyance was soon slipping away as he felt the wind in his hair and the breeze through his feathers. His plan to keep a look out and pounce on the first woodland creature to wander out of the shade from the trees was quickly forgotten, distracted as he was by the feeling of flight. It was the same exhilaration every time, and it never got old.

Dizzy smiled to himself, following below and behind the rest of the Flock, eyes open but unseeing as he simply spread his arms out and let the rough scrubs he wore flap wildly against his skin. He followed the other’s dive on autopilot, but caught himself halfway through the motion as finally he noticed the city on the horizon.

It was... incomprehensible. Never had he felt so small as in that moment. He knew the world was big, but somehow the forest had seemed... more natural maybe. Now though, the forest they’d spent days traveling through felt impossibly small, and their rooms back at Chimera were even tinier. They could walk onto those paved streets, journey into that glass wilderness, and might never find their way out.

Then he remembered he could fly and laughed giddily, following through the rest of the dive and skidding to land haphazardly next to the others. He usually tripped or fell when he landed, half on purpose half because he couldn’t be bothered to land gracefully, but this time he stuck the landing... and caused an abrasively loud pop to ring it from his feet. For a moment he feared he’d broken his ankle, but the pain never came.

He looked to investigate, frowning with concern and lifting one foot. ”Oh, well that’s just fantastic isn’t it?” He muttered sarcastically, having managed to rip off the sole of his shoe. He didn’t even think before kicking it off, and then the other one hastily followed. He’d been meaning to ditch them ages ago, but they were probably the only thing saving his feet from severe dirt clumps between his toes. Oh well.

”Hmm...” he considered, putting on his thinking face. He could probably just steal someone else’s shoes right? Right, he’d have to keep a watch out for a pair he liked. It was probably a good thing they came to the city first after all, and really he was tired of seeing Mal in that thin gown and wondering if she was freezing to death or not.

---

---

---

Crash laughed with amusement as Mal smacked him with a wing, it was nice to be allowed to goof around. As the got closer to the city he marveled at the view, so many buildings, probably filled thousands of people. He’d never seen anything like it, he wondered what normal people were like, what they did all day, and what the city even was like. His whole world had just expanded, no more cage, no more experiments, or sheltered existence. For Crash the city was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen, right after the forest and open skies, the city was freedom and adventure; new, shiny, and exciting. He let out another scream of pure exhilaration as they neared their destination.

Crash had been slightly annoyed by Flicks constant worrying, every time there was a plane or helicopter, he made them hide. Crash didn’t care for hiding, he wasn’t going to let anyone make him afraid, not ever again. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to live in fear of Chimera, he was trained to fight, he was strong, and he would never let them drag him back there. If they wanted to come after them he would be more than willing to take some revenge on his captors. He didn’t voice his complaints to Flick this time though, it didn’t seem like the others were as interested in fighting as he was.

Flick instructed them were to land, and Crash landed, fairly easily, after the others, tripping slightly as his feet touched ground and landing on his knees with one hand on the ground to steady himself. His landings had improved a lot since he was a kid and earned his name but it seemed like Mal’s landings had gotten worse. “I thought crashing the landings was my thing.” He teased as he stood up and folded his wings in and underneath the torn and dirty scrub top he’d been wearing for the past three days.

“Alright Flick, where do they keep the food around here?” He asked as something caught his attention in one of the trees. A small creature scurrying away, his powerful eyes fixed on it; not a rabbit but a squirrel was almost as good. He was annoyed he hadn’t spotted it soon when he was still in flight, creatures were hard to catch without wings and his stomach, which had almost as much patience as Crash himself, growled with hunger.

Flick, once his wings were tucked in and obscured into his shirt, ventured out slowly into the open. The park was deserted. Only a lone jogger could be spotted across the open field.

"I don't know," He said to Crash. His plan was to find some nearby restaurants and hope for the best. He tucked his hands into the shallow pockets of his pants and tried to look causal, like he belonged. But he so very obviously didn't. Flick looked back to be sure the others were following him.

"Try to keep together." Strength in numbers after all. At this point, one of the straying from the group could mean being permanently separated. This place was so big and unfamiliar, their chances of finding one another again would be slim.

Flick was hesitant to walk near the road, but something caught his eye. It was a big, metal bin with the word "Donations: shoes and clothes" plastered across all four sides. He began wandering towards it. The bin, placed next to the road for convenience, would offer them better, more inconspicuous clothing. However, being so closed to the road meant they could possibly get spotted stealing from it. The park was open enough that Flick felt confident in their ability to escape if need be.

Once they'd reached the bin, he paused to look it over. It had a large hatch on the back for emptying, but it was padlocked shut. "I need something heavy," He said, mostly to himself, as he looked around on the ground.

Rook looked around warily, making sure that nobody had spotted them. It seemed that it was early enough that nobody had noticed them fly in, nor had they noticed Mal's crash landing. Seeing that everyone had landed safely and without any injuries, save for Mal's pride, he nodded and began to move forward.

Following Flick's advice, they moved together until they reached the road. It looked a bit different from above- a lot more cracks and small imperfections that were hard to spot from a distance. He noticed the large container, and read the inscription. Shoes and clothes? He smiled to himself when he saw it. It seemed like their job just got a whole lot easier. If they could grab some clothing and proper shoes, they could not only blend in much more easily with the rest of the city's population, but also be more prepared to deal with the elements. Warm shoes and socks were always the most important. Without shoes, they risked injury whenever they walked. And if they couldn't walk, they couldn't survive.

Walking to the back of the bin with Flick, he saw the hatch, and got ready to open it- until he saw the padlock. He walked up to the bin, and knocked his fist against it, feeling how heavy the steel was. Hearing Flick talking to himself, he turned to him. "Don't bother. This is heavy steel, far too thick to break, get open by force. We need to use a...subtler option." He turned away, scanning the ground nearby, when a glint of metal caught his eye. "Maybe if..." Turning to pick up the object, he held it up, beaming with pride. It was a small, metal bobby pin, scuffed up from sitting in the road for who knows how long. "I can use this to hopefully, easily pick the lock."

Walking up to the hatch, he broke the pin in half with his fingers. Kneeling down next to the padlock, he inserted one of the halves into the bottom, rotating it around while he put his ear up to the lock, trying to hear where it was. Putting the second half in, he rotated them around several times, occasionally listening into the padlock to hear his progress. "Any...second now..." Rotating the second half, the lock turned, and he was rewarded with a satisfying click. "Hah! Too easy." Standing up with a huge smile on his face, he removed the now-unlocked padlock, dropping it on the ground as he opened the hatch.

Once her bruised pride had recovered, she yanked her wings in, doing her best to hide them under the thin, flimsy hospital gown. She shivered, despite herself; it was early enough in the morning to be cold, and now that she wasn't in rigorous physical activity anymore, she was starting to feel it. Her teeth chattered together for a few moments before she forcibly stilled them, and she clenched her elbows against herself. She was ninety percent sure that a few feathers of her wings were visible from outside the gown, but at the moment, she was more occupied with the need to get warm.

Luckily, the green area—Mal frowned, weren't there supposed to be less trees in cities?—was drop-dead deserted, and it looked like so was everything else. She tailed after Flick, trusting the older, more knowledgeable boy to lead her somewhere she could stop freezing. She looked at the road with fascination as she walked over it. She'd never seen one up close before, and wondered how they made something like that. She briefly realized that all of the tangential thoughts she was having were a coping mechanism, and that she was desperately trying to distract herself from two things: the aforementioned cold, and the fact that she was about ten seconds away from going absolutely ballistic with claustrophobia. She'd never really considered before what might happen if she got out; despite her fighting, she never really had any hope for leaving. So now that she was being inserted once again into a relatively closed area, she was starting to feel the blood boil in her brain, and was overtaken with the primal urge to leave, get out, oh god oh god oh god. It wasn't so much being closed in that made her tense up, but a lack of sight; the buildings were blocking her sight line entirely in a quite unnatural way, and it was taking a toll on her.

Somehow, she managed to hold onto it until Rook popped the donations box open, and a cascade of black bags poured out. Ignoring any warning, outside or inside, she shredded into them, searching out underwear (the thermal kind, since she was still really cold), pants, a long-sleeve shirt, socks, and some ratty sneakers, hastily stripping and tossing them on at record speed with no care for privacy.

Once the clothing was on, she felt much more comfortable, less exposed, and slightly less like she was about to vomit her guts out. Still, though, she was shaking, and she didn't know whether it was from the cold or because she felt like she might faint any second now. Food. Food, and then out. The spires of the buildings around her were oppressively tall to her eyes, and she could feel her heart pulsing in her ears. It was a wonder, she thought, that nobody could hear her heartbeat racing at mach speed. If anything, the lack of gashes in the back of her new clothing only made her feel more constricted, and she found herself desperately wishing for a knife. For a multitude of reasons.

She shut her eyes tight, willing herself to calm down. Everyone else is just as lost as you are, and you aren't gonna do much when you're freaking out. Pull it together. She stopped shaking, and her heartrate and breathing slowed enough that she didn't think she would lose it. Opening her eyes, she took a single ragged, deep breath, and gave a shaky smile.

"So, how do I look?"

---

---

Crash followed along with the others, apparently, they needed special clothes to be in the city and he was compliant with that plan. They had all been wearing the same torn and dirty clothes for three days and the entire group was getting pretty ripe. Forests, as it turns out, don’t have showers or soap, and he was more than happy to change into something that didn’t smell like three days’ worth of sweat, fear, and panic. In the city clothes were left in boxes on the streets, if they were just left out for people to have he didn’t really understand why they put a lock on it but luckily, they had Rook who easily figured out how to open it. Once Rook opened the box, several black bags poured out. He, like the others, began rifling through the bags to find something new to wear.

The clothes in the box were like nothing he’d ever had before; he was always given either scrubs or a uniform at the facility and all the guards there wore uniforms as well. There were pants of various different colors and lengths, but since it was colder outside than he was used to he grabbed a pair of dark blue jeans and best of all clean underwear. Next, he looked for a shirt, several were much too small and had ridiculous colorful characters on them but eventually he found an old faded black shirt and a red flannel shirt to wear. Finding socks was easily, the ones he grabbed wear gray and warm but finding a pair of shoes that fit was a challenge. Many of the shoes were already failing apart, most were too small, but eventually he ended up with a mismatched pair of sneakers; one was mostly red while the other black and blue. Finally, he grabbed a black beanie hat to wear as his ears in particular were very cold.

Mal, who looked a little sick which Crash figured was from a combination of being cold and hungry for three days, asked how she looked. “Coming from somebody who knows nothing about the city, I’d say you like you’d fit right in.” He said with a nod of approval. “Hey how do I look? Like a normal, non-experiment human?” He asked proud to have picked out his own clothes for the first time in his life. He wondered what was inside all the buildings, there were so many of them and some of them seemed impossibly tall, and he wondered if they ever fell over.

Flick drug a hand down his face when Mal and Crash decided to strip down right there to change. He'd forgotten that these kids weren't taught any form of modesty. He himself hadn't learned it until the past year. But, luckily, he did. Because this was sure to gain attention. A single car drove by, but didn't stop or slow down. Flick could feel the driver's eyes on them.

"You can't just strip down out in the open," He said with a hint of frustration. "It'll draw attention to us, and I'm pretty sure they have laws against it." Flick bent down and grabbed three of the trash bags, hoping that they would find suitable clothes inside. He glanced around and spotted an alley right across the street, mostly obscured by some dumpsters.
"There," He pointed and began to usher the others across the street towards it.

---

---

Managing to get an eyeful of ass cheeks, Dizzy rolled his eyes and fought a blush. He wasn't shy about skin, and neither were the others, it wasn't their way to be so, but he did happen to be a hormonal teenager with an overactive imagination. The last thing he needed was fuel for his wandering thoughts.

That said, he was feeling particularly vengeful, and after hearing Flick's warning about nudity drawing attention he saw the perfect opportunity for some harmless fun, a petty but satisfying bit of pay back for swiping their hunting idea out from under them. He gave Flick a long, mischievous look, letting the older boy know that Dizzy had been plenty focused enough to hear his words, making his next move all the more insulting. After a quick glance to ensure the street was deserted once again, and the lights of the vehicles were distanced enough to allow a brief illusion of privacy, he - very slowly - began to get changed. Spending handfuls of precious seconds stark to the world as he hesitated and internally debated this or that piece of clothing. He spent a full thirty seconds deciding between boxers or briefs - which, the boxers had an awkward green plaid color, so he chose the black briefs that said 'BOOTY' in bright pink. They were his new favourite thing ever and no one was ever taking them from him. He finally huffed after choosing a pair of worn jeans and rushed quickly through picking a shirt so as not to set Flick off too much, picking a tank top and a loose zipper jacket which he easily and hastily modified with his sharp nails to tear massive holes on either side so they would sit on his unfurled wings without breaking them or the clothes themselves being torn beyond repair.

He smirked, outfit completed by the white top, dark jeans, and simple blue jacket. He spent a few seconds further digging around for a hat like Crash's, forgetting to even think of shoes for his feet. He gave up the search when he found a pack of something that smelled delicious, soon recognized as chewing gum. "Nice!" He celebrated, and quickly escaped with a delighted smirk to the indicated alleyway, a safe distance away from the rest of the group, to enjoy his prize without them in grabbing range.

"First one to score something meaty to eat get's the next piece!" He called back to them, stuffing the first piece into his mouth with a hum of pleasure.

---

Managing to turn away, Rook grabbed a few bags and headed to the alley that Flick pointed out. He had remembered hearing from the voice that it was considered improper to get dressed in front of others. Looking through the bags, he decided on a light grey t-shirt and sweatpants, as well as a dark grey pair of sneakers. Taking one of the empty bags, he filled it with a few extra sets of clothes, as well as extra socks and a pair of extra shoes. After all, if one outfit got too dirty or damaged, it wasn't like they could get it cleaned or fixed.

Throwing the black garbage bag of clothes over his shoulder, he walked out, freshly dressed. "There's clothing taken care of." He looked over the group, satisfied to see that everyone seemed to have gotten themselves new clothes. With that problem taken care of, they could focus on their other issues- most notably, food and shelter. From the looks of things, Dizzy found...something to eat, but it wouldn't be enough. And after they ate, they would need to find a place where they could stay and sleep, preferably away from prying eyes. "Once we're all finished changing, we need to address our other issues." It wouldn't be easy, but they'd made it this far. And he wasn't about ready to give up just yet.

"You look like a homeless bum, Crash. We all do." Mal's shaky smile turned into something more genuine, and she raised an eyebrow at him. "Then again, you are homeless, and we are bums. So yeah, you look somethin' like normal."

Stretching her arms behind her head and cracking her knuckles, she groaned and popped her formerly-cold joints as she began to warm up. Now that she'd forced herself to calm down, she was thinking straight, and one thought was screaming through her. Well, less of a thought, really, and more an urge, something only solidified by Dizzy's cry from the alleyway and the pain that scrunched through her abdomen. Her eyes bugged out slightly and she grit her teeth together.

Food. Food right now, or else I'm gonna fall over. And she really felt like she was. Flying burned through energy like nothing else, and starting the morning with a flight was a surefire way to really, really want something to get in you, asap. The clenching, hollow pain only intensified, and she cradled her empty stomach tenderly.

And that was when she was graced with—nay, assaulted by—the best thing she had ever smelled. She had no idea what it was, but it immediately made the pain in her stomach worse, and it made her mouth start to run like a fire sprinkler. She had swallow to stop drool from actually leaking from the corner of her lips when she talked. It looked like Flick had nosed it out as well, because he had a look on his face that was quite familiar to Mal: it was pretty much the same one that she was wearing. She homed in on him like a missile, barely restraining herself from breaking into a full-on superhuman sprint in her lust for food.

"Hey Flick, Flick, Flick," she spouted, her burgeoning hunger making it very difficult for her to exercise any level of self-control on her mouth, "all the scientists' names—they were different from our names, the ones we gave ourselves. The people in this city will have names like the scientists, right? Will we have to use fake names?" And immediately afterwards, face contorting into an aggressive frown, "I don't care what happens, I'm not using a fake name. I spent too long getting this one instead of 34C-490B."

---

---

Crash tilted his head to the side confused about what Flick said, why would there be laws against changing clothes. The city was a very weird place, of all the things to worry about a little nudity seemed like nothing. He laughed at Dizzy, who look his time changing, clearly to piss of Flick. Then Dizzy ran off with something, into the alley way that Flick had decided was a more appropriate place to change. What did Dizzy have? Was it food? Crash was instantly jealous that Dizzy had something that he didn’t. Mal told him he looked like a homeless bum but fairly normal and he took it as a compliment.

So, while Flick was off changing in private, Crash tried to find something he could trade with Dizzy for some of his food. Unfortunately for Crash there really wasn’t much in the alley. He explored the vicinity of a nearby metal box, bigger than the one with the clothes that also smelled terrible, and he was about to give up when he heard a rustling sound. Crash’s full attention was on whatever was behind the dumpster, what if it was a rabbit, as the sound moved towards on side of the dumpster Crash lunged at it. The small gray creature let out a yowl and a hiss as it slipped through his hands, biting his finger as it ran off. Crash, disanointed, kicked the dumpster and sighed, he would probably not be getting any of whatever Dizzy had found. His hand was bleeding a little but it wasn’t anything too bad, he wiped the blood off on is jeans.

After his failed attempt to catch a cat he saw Flick return. “Princess Flick how nice of you to return, did you enjoy your private time? Crash asked, teasing him and sticking his tongue slightly. He thought Flick was being too cautious, I mean compared to everything they had all already been through who rough could the city really be? Before he had a chance to say anything else the wind shifted slightly and the greatest smell that had ever graced his nose blew through the air. It was food, and it smelled fantastic. Flick seemed to know where the food was coming from so Crash followed without any questions or smartass comments. He didn’t want to stall eating any further. As Mal spoke of needing new names Crash did nod in agreement. “I don’t want a new name either. I like Crash. The guards all had boring names like Chuck Johnson or Janice Smith.” Crash said making a face at the names he could recall.

Rook soon realized that his plan had run into a bit of a problem. A minor problem, but still an issue never the less. Carrying around a trash bag filled with spare clothing items seemed like a good idea, but there were a few hurdles he had to overcome. Namely, the fact that he had to carry it at all times, and the fact that it would probably look somewhat suspicious to any bystanders. Although, if they found a place to stay, he could just leave it there. But for now, he'd just have to settle with looking like more of a bum than he already was.

Waiting for Flick to return from the alley, he occupied his mind with thoughts of the current situation and future. There were a large number of factors that he was considering when it came to what was best for the group. The most important were:

1. Access to food and clean water

2. Warm, safe shelter

3. Risk of capture by Chimera

So far, they had clothing, but lacked food and shelter, although they were currently working on those issues. That left the possibility of capture, which was his biggest concern with the city. While they had seen very few people, that would change soon as more people woke up. Given the city's location to the facility, it was likely there were a large number of Chimera agents already in the city, with more on the way as they were hunted down. It would be best if they avoided others as much as possible, to limit the risk of sightings. It might even be necessary for the group to move shelters every few days, to keep Chimera off their trail.

His thoughts were interrupted as Flick returned, asking the group to follow him. He obliged, throwing the garbage bag of clothes over his back and lugging it along with him as he followed them. Soon, the smell of hot breakfast food hit his nose. What is that? It smells incredible... Whatever it was, it smelled somewhat like what he was usually served in the mornings, but...better, almost. It made sense, since whatever the people ate here had to be better than what he was served at the facility.

Making a mental note of it for later, he listened in to Mal and Crash talking about names. They had a good point- from the few guards whose names he knew, he could tell the names that they had given themselves were likely not considered normal. "We won't have to get new names, Crash. Just fake names, trick names. Names that sound normal, that we use when we talk, are talked to by others." He then looked at Mal, and spoke. "I like my name too, but it's probably not a normal, typical name. We need a normal name when we talk to normal people." It only made sense, Rook thought. Besides, Chimera might know the names they called themselves. He didn't want to take that chance.

Rook gave Flick a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. Shaking his head somewhat, he spoke. "It doesn't matter if we're not going to talk to them, Flick. They're going to talk to us, eventually." Was he angry? He couldn't tell. Either way, he felt that Flick was being unrealistic if he thought they would never interact with other people. Looking around, he continued speaking. "We look different, suspicious. Someone will likely ask us some questions. And what if we are caught sneaking around somewhere?" He continued walking, stopping as the restaurant came into view.

Rook wasn't a hundred percent sure what a waffle was, but he vaguely remembered it as some sort of food item. Judging by the sign, this house was a place in which waffles were served. Looking through the windows, he could see a few people inside. He had to take a moment to really look at them- he hadn't seen anything like it. They looked nothing like the guards and scientists, and not just because they were wearing different clothes. Instead of the poker faces of the scientists, and the cold glares of the guards behind their masks, they wore a variety of expressions. A group of four people sat at a table, smiling and laughing. A woman spoke to the person behind the counter, sipping out of a white mug. A man in a heavy coat sat alone, picking at his plate. They looked nothing like the people he had seen before. They were just...living their lives. It was something so ordinary, but so strange to him.

Looking away from the window, he followed Flick across the building. Carrying the bag of clothes over his back, he tried his best to look as normal as possible, sprinting over to the dumpster as soon as he got the chance. Looking inside as Flick tossed open the lid, he noticed the bags. Same type. They must use this kind of bag a lot. Looking over his shoulder to the garbage bag of clothes, he realized he might have a problem. Great...

Sighing, he proceeded to pick up one of the garbage bags, and lifted it over his left shoulder, the clothing bag resting on his right shoulder. His augmented strength made carrying the two bags fairly easy, but it would be harder to move with them, and he would look very suspicious. The sooner they found a place to stay, the better.

Mal growled faintly at Flick. "To hell with being sneaky, I'm hungry. Too hungry for this shit." And with brief prelude, totally ignoring the principles of intelligence, she dug her fingers into a bag's tense, plasticky skin and ripped the whole thing open.

The smell was heavenly. She thought she might faint as she looked down at piles of food that looked—to her eyes, at least—and smelled perfectly good. Sure, there were some fragments of broken ceramic and glass here, a bent fork or a blunted knife there, and a mass of unpleasant-smelling black pulp that she would later find out were coffee grounds, but most of it was just...food. Right there, behind that restaurant, she abandoned all pretense of civility or restraint and began shoveling food straight from the bag into her mouth.

Oh my God this is the best thing I have ever put into my mouth. That wasn't really saying much, as other than the past few days of raw food and poorly-cooked rodent, her only sustenance had been the tasteless mush that Chimera had served, but still. Best thing she'd ever eaten in her entire life, and there was SO MUCH OF IT in front of her. She really didn't care about the fact that she looked pretty grotesque. That was rather low on her list, compared to the particularly nice food she was piling into her face. Biscuits and gravy, she would've discovered had she looked at the menu, was her current casualty. Sausages, pancakes, waffles, nothing was safe from her ravenous maw. She tried her best to keep most of the food off of her face, but she still looked like there was a little something (a lot of something) on her lips.

All of that happened over the span of only a few seconds, interestingly enough. And at the end of those few seconds was when the metal door in front of her clicked open and she looked up, startled, only to meet the surprised, then vindictive, face of a man who was holding another of the great big black goodie bags.

"Yo!" he shouted, advancing on the quintet of kids, "the fuck do you think you're doin'?"

It all happened so fast, Rook thought to himself.

It was supposed to be simple. They would grab a few bags, run away, eat, and move on. He had already grabbed one of the bags, and was holding it over his shoulder along with the bag of clothing. But apparently, Mal decided she didn't like that idea. She was, as she put it, too hungry. Too hungry for common sense, apparently. He could only look on, with shock and confusion, as she proceeded to tear into one of the bags and stuffed her face like some kind of rabid animal. And, just a few seconds after this happened, someone walked outside- evidently an employee of the establishment- and noticed what was going on.

He looked at the man, and the man looked back at him. As the man spoke, Rook could only stare at him for a moment. We must look so suspicious, he thought. They were five homeless-looking teenagers huddled around a dumpster, with one of them currently eating out of it. He, himself, was carrying not one, but two garbage bags, which probably didn't help at all.

We need to go, he realized. If they stayed here, they risked a confrontation, which would inevitably lead to them being found by Chimera. He already had a bag of food, which should be enough for everyone. They just had to run, and fast. So, looking the man in the eyes, Rook spoke with the most polite voice he could muster at that moment. "We're sorry, sir. We'll be going now." He then proceeded to walk, then run away from the restaurant and into the alleys, fleeing a situation that could lead to their capture. As he ran, there was only a single thought on his mind.

Damn it, Mal.