Clarke grunted as she carried in another bundle of wood through the entrance of the cave. Night would be falling soon and she needed to make sure there were enough logs to get her through the impending storm.
An intense gust of wind blew back the fur drapes at the mouth of the cave; Clarke had put them up almost 2 months ago to help keep out the night's chill. Peeking outside she looked up to see dense dark clouds, heavy with un-fallen rain. "This was going to be a long night." She muttered, as she moved back inside to feed the fire. The sky rumbled low with thunder as if in response.
Hearing the familiar patter of rain she sat down on a rock with her back against the cave wall and began to skin a rabbit she'd caught earlier in one of her traps. She had to admit she was becoming a much better provider for herself the past couple months.
It'd been so long since she'd seen any of the others from the arc, or grounders or just anyone at all. After she said her goodbyes to Bellamy she left, knowing the weight of what she'd done at mount weather would hang heavily over her head; she was not fit to lead anyone anymore.
Clarke's shoulders slumped as she thought about the events that occurred 6 months ago. When she left she'd nowhere to go. At first she stayed in the bunker Finn and her had found. She quickly realized that was far too close to avoid the others; so she walked. For days, her feet moved and her mind stayed locked on the lever she pulled, on the betrayal of the commander, her abandonment of camp Jaha. She was half starved to death and suffered from complete exhaustion when she stumbled across this valley and eventually the rock formation she now calls home.
She put the rabbit into the pot she'd found in another bunker nearby and hung it over the fire adding some salt and roots with a little broth. She'd thought about staying there when she found the bunker but there were too many leaks and no fresh air. She was able to salvage some supplies; a few bedrolls, clothes, cooking material, provisions, and her favorite: books. There were many books; she still periodically made trips to bring a few more back. Her favorite were the ones with nothing in them. Her days were so lonely now she had plenty of time to sketch and draw.
Sitting by the light of the fire she cracked open the book she'd been sketching in. She'd drawn the beautiful sights of earth she'd seen, the view outside her cave was stunning at sunset. She was on the side of a steep hill with a small river at the bottom that cut through the mountains across from her. Not only did the height protect her from being seen, it allowed her a bird's eye view of the surrounding territory. She had a growing map of the land she now dwelled and was becoming confident in her abilities to survive.
As she flipped through the pages there were also faces of her friends drawings that made her heart ach. Jasper and Monti with big goofy smiles, Bellamy with his smirk, Raven concentrated over some wiring system, Octavia and Lincoln, her mother. She lingered on that page as she wondered what her mother thought of her now.
All of the innocent lives Clarke had taken; if she'd only waited a few more moments for Jasper to kill Cage, everything would be different. This argument in her brain has become a nightly routine. Some way or another her mind found its way back to it.
Clarke proceeded to turn through the pages as she heard the rain's intensity increase to a downpour. Her stomach knotted as the next page presented a piercing set of eyes, and fierce demeanor, powerful and beautiful. Lexa. Her fingers traced the edges of the page as she thought of the warrior who had given her the most hope and hurt since she'd been on earth. She thought of their kiss, that disorienting exciting intimacy they'd shared.
Why did it have to be like this? The commander said she cared for her and then she left her and her people to die. Clarke's chest tightened with the deepest ache she'd known. Her vision of the warrior princess blurred as tears threatened to fall once again because of her betrayer. She was remembering again how alone she truly was.
The growling of her stomach and smell of the stew awakened her from her thoughts. She wiped her eyes and set the book down by her bedroll with the others. The stew sated her hunger well enough and had a few berries for dessert.
She peered outside to see a crack of lightening illuminate the valley; the rain was beating down hard. The river was becoming swollen and the usually lazy current was fast and agitated. Clarke gave it little thought as she put another log on the fire and proceeded to lay down and lose herself to sleep.