DAUNTLESS TOUR → WELLARKE
[If Wells had thought joining a new faction and assimilating was going to be easy, he’d been sorely mistaken. As soon as everyone had gotten to the bottom of the hole, they’d been sent in separate directions: the Dauntless born going one way, and the faction-transfers being led on a separate tour. It was like they were already being singled out, being eyed as possible weak links, but Wells stayed firmly by Clarke’s side as they toured this underground pit, determined that the pair from Erudite would not be left on the streets when all was said and done.
There were a few others in their group -- Beatrice Prior, the boy Finn that they’d met earlier, a Candor named Christina. But their old groups didn’t matter now; they were being led through their new underground home, and Wells arched an eyebrow when he realized that as they’d gone through the dining hall and other establishments, getting their bearings, he hadn’t seen a single old person. Live fast, die young... The Dauntless way continued to unsettle him, but each flash of Clarke’s blonde hair, blue eyes, and small smile reminded him why he was here, and that he’d done the wrong thing.]
“And this is the chasm, your last stop before lunch.”
[Wells came to an abrupt stop as Four pointed out a huge drop into the oblivion there. Before he could stop himself, he turned to whisper in Clarke’s ear.]
“How many people do you think have died down there?”
@dauntlessgriffin
