A harsh wind blew through the trees. Clarke wrapped her arms around her chest, trying to suppress a shudder. It was getting colder, and darker. As she looked around, she sighed heavily in defeat and moved towards a tree with as wide branches as she could find.
She attempts to hoist herself into the lower branches but her hands are too cold. She doesn't have to energy. She lets herself slip down the bark and that is where she remains.
She leans her back against the tree, its trunk somewhat sheltering her from the wind but the cold seeps into her bones none the less.
Clarke sits and stares straight ahead of her lost in thought. Her eyes glisten and tears threaten to fall.
"Fuck" her voice cracks, and the tears that have been threatening to fall finally run down her cheeks.
She looks down at her gun and slides the clip out. One bullet. She slides the clip back in, looking down at the glock in her hand. She closes her eyes and cocks the gun, slowly bringing it up to her temple. She remains there, gun to her head for a few moments. A wave of dizziness washes over her and her hand shakes under the weight of the weapon.
She lets out and long sigh.
"Not yet" she whispers. She lowers the gun, letting more tears drop down her face.
Clarke's bottom lip trembles as she looks up towards the stars.
"Oh how far I've fallen". Through her tears she scoffs, bitterly at how literal her words are. Soon her thoughts stray from the Ark to Lexa.
"Clarke of the sky people" She sighed.
"Not anymore" she sighed. Closing her eyes, Clarke curls up as small as she can against the bark of the tree, with no energy left to even shiver, she succumbs to the dizziness and passes out, hoping that just maybe, she won't wake up.
When Clarke does wake, her coat is covered in a wet sheen. A light rain still falls; she is soaked through; cold to the bone. Sitting up slowly, she reaches for her gun. She wipes off what mud she can and stuffs it down the back of her pants as she stands up.
As she goes to step forward, she loses her balance slightly.
"Oh". her voice is soft.
Steadying herself she takes in her surroundings. She listens, but the only sounds heard are faint rustles from the trees in the wind and the light fall of rain. She looks around, and groans when there is no sign of running water. She treads around the area, searching the ground. She stops at a small, but slightly deeper puddle and grimaces.
"To my health"
Clark kneels, scooping some water in her hands. It is a light brown colour; she stops for a second, before bringing her head down to drink. She repeats, taking only enough to quench her thirst, and to feel the water run through her body. Despite the earthy taste, it's done the trick.
Slightly rejuvenated, she stumbles forward and begins to walk. Despite the cold, she manages to work up an uncomfortable sweat.
She had barley been walking 20 minutes when her hunger pains came back. She grazes her hand over a few bushes, picking a berry from one. She squeezes it between her thumb and finger, watching juice ooze out of it. She places the tip of her tongue on the juice and scrunches her nose at the taste. She flicks the squashed berry to the ground and walks on.
It was her 4th day out on her own. With only one bullet and the colder weather, she had seen no animals and her knowledge of edible plants didn't help. The Ark didn't have any information on any of the things she'd seen during her short time on Earth. The Ark. She pelt a pang in her chest. She wondered how things were at camp. She left before anyone got the chance to stop her. She didn't even consider the drop ship when she left. That's the first place they'd look for her and that was the last thing she wanted.
She felt another pang of sorrow cut through her chest. "I doubt they'd even want to look for me".
She had made her way to the bunker after leaving Camp Jaha, though the minute she opened the hatch, she wished she'd never. She was met with the stench of decomposition. Of course. How could she have forgotten. Just another breadcrumb left from Finn's rage. The stench of the dead grounder made her gag. She didn't want to imagine the smell in the mountain. She closed her eyes tight, trying to erase the thought.
She thought back to how she treated Finn. She had been horrified that he'd killed an unarmed man. Well if only he could see her now. She killed over 300 men, women and children in the mountain. What a hypocrite. It was these thoughts that sent Clarke reeling from the bunker, further into the forest than she'd ever been. There was no turning back. There were no landmarks, not feelings of familiarity. She couldn't find her way back, even if she wanted to.
"Good" she thought. The last thing she wanted was her people finding her body. She wondered if they would burn her along side those she killed. After all, Finn had to be burned with his victims from TonDc.
"Blood must have blood".
She unconsciously felt to see if the gun was still still with her.
One bullet.
Leaving Camp Jaha, Clarke had every intention to use that bullet on Lexa. 2 days into her exile, she had realised that she would have done the same. She would swear to anyone she wouldn't, but deep down. Yes. She would have saved her people in the mountain, if it meant getting her people back. Back on the ark, she would never would have even considered that decision hypothetically. But now. Here on the ground? Clarke Griffin was gone. She was nobody.
As they day went on, Clarke began to notice more and more derelict buildings; even the remnants of an old pathway. As she continued further down the path, he began to hear noise. She was so startled of the signs of life that adrenaline flooding through her gave her a rush of dizziness and she had to sit down. Up ahead, the path became more prominent. She could hear horses. Children. Their laughter. Her heart grew heavy. Innocent children, no different to those she slaughtered. She could feel the tears brim once more. After observing for a few more moments, she could hear shouts coming from behind a large wooden gate. The gate looked grounder made, not matching the surroundings of the rest of the town.
Clarke dashed into some thick undergrowth as the gate slowly began to open. She craned her neck to get a better look without being discovered. Her heart stopped. Lexa was riding out, 5 warriors behind her. 2 on horses, 3 on foot. Clarke held her breath. It was only now she began to realise how dizzy she was. She hoped the growling from her stomach wouldn't give away her position. The commander and her guards passed her without any notice. Clarke sighed a breath of relief and lay in awe, staring after the commander. Seeing black dots in front of her eyes, Clarke closed her eyes and lay her head down. She passed out moments later, still hidden amongst the undergrowth.
When she woke up, it was significantly darker. She could see the haze of torches from behind the gates; could hear the hustle and bustle of grounder life. Sounds that sounded alarmingly normal. No ferocious warriors. Just normal people, going about their lives.
A wave of guilt hit Clarke. Those 300 warriors burned alive with rocket fuel. They had families, friends.
There were grounders in the mountain, trapped just as her own people were. She could see now how similar the sky people and grounders really were. Both trying to look after their people. Innocents. Children, civilians. She had only ever met the grounder warriors. She had thought that was all there was to them. How naïve of her.
These people had experienced so many losses through the mountain men. Clarke had added to their mourning with a body count of her very own. A rapidly growing trend these days.
Lightheaded. She crawled to the edge of the tree line and began to stand. Hey eyes drooping, knees shaking, she clumsily made her way past the gate of the village, and into the forest ahead of her. She turned back, hoping to glimpse the commander once more, but the gates remained shut. Breathing heavily, she retched, stumbling. She dug her palms into the ground for stability, her head spinning. Nothing came up apart from the smallest bit of bile. She gasped, in tears now.
She stumbled up, and ran into the forest, tripping as she ran, traveling in anything but a straight line. As her emotions bubbled over, the ache in her chest became unbearable.
As she stumbled once more, she sank hard to her knees, sobbing. She removed the gun from her pants. Taking several attempts to cock the gun in her weakened state. It clicked into place.
Shaking, gasping for breath she turned the muzzle to her head. The world was spinning, and the only thing grounding her was the feel of the trigger at her finger. She tried to clear her mind, as she pulled the trigger, but she couldn't concentrate. Sounds were a blur, and she no longer had the energy to keep her eyes open. With a strangled cry, a shot rang out.