Chapter Text
A small fire died behind Moya. The air was cold without it, and she turned her head around, contemplating yelling at one of her squadmates to build up the fire again before turning away. She wrapped her arms around her knees, and stared at the darkness growing around her.
Then she saw the corner of a box in her peripheral vision. She stared at it in alarm, the eye on her mask appropriately wide. It hadn't been there before. Was Oari playing a joke on her? Checking on her squadmate, she heard the soft ringing of Oari sharpening his sickle and chatting with Carmine, who seemed enraptured.
Moya slunk over to the box, still cautious, circling it before she stuck a toe out and lifted the lid up. It popped off, and she peered over its edge.
"My knife!?"
"What are you yapping about now?" Carmine said.
Moya ignored Carmine's complaining and pointed at Oari. "You took apart one of my prototypes!"
"No!?" Oari threw his hands up. "Why?"
"I know his pranks are stupid, but he's not that horrible," Carmine said, slouching over. "You're going to wake everyone up with your yelling."
"You're—" Moya stopped herself. She grumbled and crouched down, putting the handle and button back in place before shoving the screws holding it together back in. The prototype didn't work, so she pressed the button to make sure it had gone in right.
The blade flicked on. This wasn't any of the prototypes. Moya stood up and peered into the dark, whipping her head around to find the culprit, but saw nothing. It couldn't have been the Champion— sneaking, backstabbing little thief though he was, she knew he couldn't have found them down here. One of her clanmates was also out of the question. No proper Yiga would ever bother to confront the Champion without focusing on killing him.
Yeah, and guess who did that, Moya thought. She shouldn't have even tried to speak to him, honestly.
"I'm gonna have a look around," Moya said.
"Don't die," Oari said.
"Yeah, you have watch in a few hours," Carmine added.
Moya shrugged. "No promises." She strode forward, the glow of the knife lighting her way.