Chapter 1: Fallen From Grace
With deep, gasping breaths, Clarke slumped exhaustedly against the rough bark of gnarled roots that twisted up from the damp, leaf-covered ground. Towering pines surrounded her, closely knit in such a way that they were both in chaos, and ordered like rigid sentries. Her hair hung damp around her shoulders, clinging to her neck and dirt had accumulated so that her natural blonde was barely visible. It was coming close to twelve days since she had left camp and her insufficient skill set for survival in the harsh wilderness of the ground was growing more apparent by the minute. She had run out of tears to shed soon after leaving Camp Jaha, having decided the murky waters that sliced through the warm green of the trees was assuredly unsafe for her to drink. Her hands shook, knees trembling as she stood once again, battling the onslaught of nausea as she stumbled weakly against the wood again, gripping its deeply rutted surface in an attempt to keep herself up. She had gained innumerable new scars in the short time she had been out in the open on her own, and the meagre amount of food she had actually managed to scrounge from the earth meant that whatever small amounts of fat she may have had left had been lost quickly. She was lean now, but well aware that she would be skin and bones before long. After that, simply bones.
For a short while she had attempted to navigate to a destination, always somewhere in mind, even if it had no real meaning. A goal was something she could focus on. A goal was something that could make her forget what she had done. Now though, she walked aimlessly, shambling through unfamiliar landscape, stumbling over unseen obstacles. She moved like the dead, unaware of her surroundings and perhaps that was the reason few of the creatures of the forest bothered coming near her. The emptiness in her stone heart bled out from her core, so that she seemed overall more like the rocks in the valley than living flesh. The guilt had gnawed at her mind, invaded her every thought, strangled her every chance at happiness. Her soul had fled with the lives of the people she had slaughtered.
To her left there was the rustle of undergrowth. Shadows, black as tar, flitted through the dim darkness of the forest, darting through the thick trunks of the trees. She made no effort to follow the movement, too exhausted to worry about any forthcoming dangers, instead carrying on to skirt along the rock face, slipping along a narrow ledge that crumbled a little at the edge under her foot. Chunks of stone tumbled down the steep incline, almost vertical, ricocheting off of the uneven surface with an echoing clatter. Eventually they disappeared from sight, the bottom of the valley no longer visible as the former ethereal wisps of mist became denser clouds of fog that clung to the air itself like a clot. The humid air reminded her of the escape from Mount Weather. Anya's face swum in her vision, as blurred as the real world while she swayed unsteadily, cursing as she clung tighter to her rough handholds. Solid ground was meters away, torturously close. A groan sounded from her, but for all Clarke knew it could have been her bones creaking in protest as she shuffled agonisingly closer. Her skin was raw and broken in places, her nails cracked and dirty as they clawed against the rough rock for grip. The wind picked up, buffeting her like a delicate blade of grass. Finally, and with a distinct air of relief that made her feel the most alive that she had in a long time. She fell to the ground gratefully, the deep earthy brown kissing the side of her face as she relaxed into the dirt.
Clarke rolled so that she lay on her back, to stare up at the sky, dizzyingly bright blue glaring in her vision as spots of black fought against the scorching yellow of the sun. Her lids fluttered closed as she attempted to shut out the overload of information from the suddenly alive world. Sound whirled through her head, bombarding her eardrums with chaotic abandon. Birds shrill whistling crashed together in her ears to form an atonal mush over the rush of the trees in the wind. The gentle breeze was cool and calm against her raw face, like a soothing lotion, though it quickly picked up again so that it was strong enough to shift the thin veil of dirt she lay on the give way to more stone around her. She saw nothing of the cracked surface, her eyes still closed in almost euphoric bliss, welcoming the ache of her sore muscles. What she saw behind her lids was pure darkness, a happy escape from the images of the dead that haunted her brain. The ground shifted again. Her eyes opened slowly but drifted shut again when there was no more movement. Just as they closed, she was jolted from where she lay, a now very definite crack visible on her right. The side of her farthest from the edge. The soft stone crumbled into the gap as Clarke rose slowly, creaking like the rafters of an old building. Her bones cracked as she straightened up. She looked around, noticing suddenly that the ledge had merely widened rather than her reaching solid ground. Her eyes widened as the world tipped suddenly around her. Then it spun completely, as though she was on a broken gyroscope, tumbling out of control. Rock tumbled with her as she fell, bouncing against the cliff, snapping two of her fingers as she tried to grab at the sheer rock. Stone cracked against her skull and she went limp as darkness encroached on her vision. The last thing she saw was the ground rushing towards her.
I know this was quite short, but a second chapter should probably find its way up pretty quickly. I don't think I'll make it clexa, since I want to try something different with this story but before any of the romance stuff is going to happen, stuff is going to go down...guess you'll have to carry on reading to find out what. Please R&R , let me know what you think!