It was awhile, a few hours, after the Claptrap promised to find a reward for the man and zoomed off without second thought.
He figured the machine would be scrap before it found whatever it was looking for.
The Scav bunched together with two others. A shorter man with hair long enough to wrap around his neck two times and a giant heavily armored man.
He was usually accompanied with a man named Griever, an obviously self-named man. This name was quite ironic on account of his long, ginger hair and short height. (But quite taller than a tiny Scav.) He wore a hand-printed psycho mask and crappily made armor. Newton had met Griever on his first day as a gang member.
The other fellow he would have around at almost all times was named Penn. He was heavily equipped, like an Outlaw; head to toe, and it was rare for any of the Scavengers to remove armor casually. Newton had never seen Penn's face before. He was kind of a menacing presence, towering above most in the gang.
"Newt-y, buddayy," Griever started with a nudge to Newt's arm. "I saw you sneaking off someplace during eatin' hours. Either you're tryna avoid us or you're meetin with a chick."
Penn shook his head slowly, adding "Bros before hoes, that's our rule. You know that."
Newton shoved Griever. "Hey! Are you guys stalking me or something? I'm not seein any hoes, nor am I avoiding you guys. I just had to..." He paused. "Piss."
He mentally slapped himself as Penn made a quiet chuckle.
Griever snickered. "Long piss, then."
"Don't be childish, man!" Newton frowned.
"Okay, okay. I'll keep my eye on you, though. You aren't off the hook just yet!" Griever grinned.
"Stop stal-"
Newton was immediately interrupted by a familiar robotic shriek and gunshots in the distance. He winced at the sound, feeling a little guilty for not chacing the small robot as it fled from him.