The two of them sneaked behind a truck and peered at the building. It was an old steel mill, and it was filled with soldiers and vehicles.
"It's an outpost," Octavia whispered, "but why?"
"Not sure," John muttered.
"Do you have a plan?"
John sighed and closed his eyes.
'Should we ambush them or break in? Maybe both?' He wondered.
"I'll leave a Web of Whispers here. If there's a ship, I'll know, but for now, let's keep looking."
"Sounds good. Let's go."
After about an hour of walking, John and Octavia sat down for a break in an abandoned apartment.
"Are you alright, Octavia? I feel like you've been distant lately," John asked.
Octavia nodded, her eyes fixed on the floor.
"Really, tell me."
Octavia glanced up and shrugged, "I don't want your pity, John. I'm not weak or useless."
John sighed, "again with that? It's not pity, Octavia. We care for each other."
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