Hey guys, sorry I haven't been writing in a while... A long while... Anyways, I just wanted to say that, YES, I know that he doesn't get his injured leg here... and he doesn't, it's just a BRUSE people... chill out C; lmao... and also, I know he is one of the originals, but I thought that was boring, so I made it this way C: Gotta problem? Then leave. Not my fault that u no gusta my story :3 ENJOYY!
~The Creator~ _
As soon as he lifted his head to get a better glimpse at the crowd, the first thing that he noticed was that they were only men surrounding him. Well, not men, He thought. Just teenagers. What are they all doing here? They were all pointing, whispering and betting how long Newt could last, like he was in some sort of pig ready for slaughter. Newt looked up at them in disgust, stood up, stumbling at the attempt, and brushed the dirt off his jeans. His eyes like razor blades as he stared them down till they were silent. Someone from behind him chuckled then smacked him on the back, taking a deep breath as in he was about to say something. Anger ripped though Newt, his body spewing with adrenaline. As hunger and survival took over, his vision grew cloudy. He whipped around, grabbed the hand and spun it around the attackers back, then pulled the tanned arm up towards his neck till he heard him cry out in pain. It was the shouts and gasps of the other people trying to pull him off of his victim that finally kicked him out of his haze. Newt stumbled back and lost his footing. He closed his eyes..