She stumbles slightly, bracing herself against the tree she almost fell face first into.

It's these damn boots, she thinks, I've been walking for too long.

But she knows it's not the boots or even the mass distance she managed to put between her and Camp Jaha today. It's Monty's moonshine that she found while she was checking the dropship one last time for supplies.

Clarke thinks maybe it's the best thing she could have hoped to find. She has no need for food, her appetite ripped away every time she thinks about all of those charred bodies locked away in the mountain for the rest of eternity…

She leans to the side and vomits, and this time she knows it's not from the alcohol.

It's the knowledge of what she's done. And she can't even begin to ask for forgiveness because everyone who she would ask, anyone whose forgiveness even matters, she torched when her and Bellamy pulled that lever.

Clarke straightens to stand again, wipes her mouth, and makes a tighter fist around the bottle of liquor she's holding. She brings it to her lips and finishes it off in one swig. She hisses as the strong liquid burns its way down her throat, but she's thankful for it because at least she still feels something.

"Yu gonplei ste odon," she murmurs and then she lets the bottle fall unceremoniously from her hands and keeps walking.

Clarke doesn't really know where she's going, but she knows her destination. She knows to keep the sun behind her because she needs to head west. How far west she doesn't know.

She digs another bottle of moonshine out of her pack and pulls the cork out with her teeth. She spits it onto the ground, not caring where it lands because she doesn't need it anymore. She plans on finishing this bottle off too.

Clarke knows she's being sloppy. She isn't watching where she steps, and she's breaking just about every twig and branch that gets into her path on her trek through the forest. She just can't bring herself to give a fuck. She doesn't care if anyone can follow her, find her.

She isn't afraid of dying anymore.

I probably fucking deserve it.

And that's when the first arrow hits her in the shoulder.

She looks down at her right shoulder and notices she can see the feathers at the end of the arrow sticking out in stark contrast to her black jacket. Whoever shot her is in front of her.

Clarke strains her eyes against the lush, green cloak of the forest, trying to find her assailant. Before she wanted to kiss Monty for how strong he made his moonshine, now she is desperately wishing he had skimped a little on this particular batch.

She catches a slight movement out of her corner of her eye and by the time she can comprehend where the shooter is, another arrow is sailing her way. It slices its way through the skin above her right knee, about halfway up her thigh, and her leg gives out.

She falls to the ground, arms doing nothing to brace her fall. Her face kisses the forest floor, hard, and it's in this moment that Clarke decides karma truly does exist.

Dante was right. We all have to atone for our sins.

The pain is intense, and real, and Clarke does nothing but accept it. She has no fight left. That's why when she hears the footsteps approaching her, her attempt to push herself off the ground is meager at best. She knows she looks just about at pathetic as she feels.

She takes a boot to the ribs before everything goes dark.

She can't stop pacing back and forth. Back and forth. She knows how annoying this must be for Indra to watch, but she can't stand still. She can't take the risk of letting her thoughts catch up to her.

This is why it's been over an hour, and Lexa still hasn't sat down at the table with the rest of her war council.

"Commander, you need not worry about the girl. She has shown her strength in taking down the Mountain Men. She will be fine in her travels." It's Indra now who tries to cease Lexa's concern.

Am I making it that obvious?

"I do not worry for Clarke. I only worry for our men who were turned rabid by the mountain."

It feels so good to even form her name in her mouth. The way Lexa's tongue rolls from the back of her throat to the front of her teeth until the word is nothing more but a puff of air against her lips on its way out.

Clarke.

"Abby agreed to help revive the men that she could. They are in good hands with the Skai doctor."

Lexa sighs and rubs her hand across eyes. She's so tired, and still pacing, and they aren't listening to her.

"Yes, and we've been over this. How long do you think this treaty will hold while Clarke is away?"

She couldn't bring herself to say that Clarke was… gone. She couldn't be gone. She was just away, somewhere, on her own. In the fucking forest.

Lexa starts to pace a little faster.

She needs a way to make her war council back her on this. Sure, she could tell them to go scour the woods, flip over every fallen tree and search in the caves behind every damn waterfall, and they would. She is the Commander. She is Heda. Which is exactly why she needs a plan that doesn't make her look like an obsessive, love-sick teenager.

I'm not in love, I'm just concerned.

That is like her fucking mantra these days.

"Kane is their voice of reason now. Their people trust him, and our people accept the words he speaks."

"And still Kane is not Clarke." For the first time all night, Lexa stills and when she puts her hands down on the table, it's with a little too much force as she says these words, a little too much emotion seeping into her sentence. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in through her nose trying to strengthen her resolve, become in control of her words again. "I just do not wish to start another war when we only just obtained our new-found peace."

And it's completely true. Lexa believes that Clarke is the true leader of the Skaikru. Her people listen to her, respect her. She is their heart, and the only reason they have survived this long on the ground. Not to mention she is one of the only people from the Arc that Lexa's people fully trust. Lexa knows that it will only be a matter of time before the new spark of the alliance would die out in Clarke's absence.

That's why I have to find her, to protect her- to protect the alliance.

"The Commander is right," Indra addresses the table, "Clarke is who our people truly trust, where their faith lies. If something happens to the Skai girl, this alliance will fail. This is a risk we cannot take."

There is silence for a moment while the other council members churn this idea over in their minds, and then a resounding chorus of "Ay's" breaks out among the table.

"It is settled then. I will lead a search party tomorrow at first light," Lexa gives the command.

Lexa feels only slightly relieved because even though her soldiers have agreed to look for her, Clarke is still out there somewhere, alone, and all Lexa has done is pace all night.

I should be out there looking for her.

As her council members all stand from the table and make their way out the door of the tent, Indra idles just long enough to catch Lexa's eye. She gives Lexa a knowing look, and Lexa nods her head in silent recognition. She is thankful to Indra for backing her on this decision.

Indra was there when Costia was taken, and Lexa was unable to go looking for her.

She'll be damned if she makes that same mistake again.