+ txctus. v: hanging on {insurgent}. {dauntless hq}.
Narrowed eyes scanned the shaken girl as she sat practically shattered and dull upon her bunk. Tori kept a steady gaze on Tris, partially because she was worried about her, worried about Tobias, worried about their cause; and partially, because something within her did not fully trust the young divergent. Even after all this time. Tori’s lanky muscular arms were wrapped tightly over her chest before she took a rather bold step forward, then landed a seat beside Tris. “So.” She began, both a serious and teasing intonation about her. “Let’s talk about guns.” Did she think that she hadn’t noticed how timid Tris was around the weapons? Not to mention what she had just admitted while on the truth serum. They were, after all, training for an uprising, at least Tori was putting together a solid team as best she could, being voted a leader and what not. She was not ther to intimidate the girl, no. She was there for answers. And maybe, just maybe, she could help her.