Raven remains by the wall, arms crossed, back leaning against it as she listens and tries her best not to roll her eyes. She's seen this all before, but hadn't been privy to the discussions about what to do with a few knickknacks that may or may not make much of an impact on the way a civilisation functions.

She wonders if the Council ever had heated debates like this. She recalls the ones she's had with Bellamy and Clarke, with the kids who thought they knew better when they were letting pride instead of sense talk. None of these people are teenagers hellbent on surviving and outlasting the fear that unbalances them every single day they spend on the ground, but she feels the need to stand back and let them organise how to use weapons she has no interest in trying to snatch for herself.

It gives her an idea, though. She has the pieces and the creativity and the drive, but lacks the tools, and she wonders if those crates have little bits and pieces none of them would think are of any use that she can use.

Watching Jess move toward the crate, she kicks herself off the wall, arms still crossed, to peer inside of it. She hadn't felt welcomed to do so before, instead listening to everyone throw words around, hoping to cling onto some little tangible slip of a fact she'd missed over the last few weeks she's been here.

With a slight quirk to her lip, she cocks her head toward the box his hands are sliding over. "Thinking about crawling inside?"