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Chapter 1: Black Sheep
After losing two on the way down from the hell of the gravity field, she didn't know what to think. Damn spacewalker for doing this to them, really. She couldn't hold onto her thoughts for long, as shouts from below had called up to her. Her instincts for survival kicked in, pushing her to move down the ladder to yell at the idiot that was going to open the door.
He was tall, with his dark hair slicked back and was wearing a guard's uniform, was the only a fast glimpse as she made her way through the crowd to stand in front as he turned around to face him.
Dark brown eyes.
He was young by face, as she took in the features, but the eyes told more. Always told more of the story. She had an itch to draw him (in fact her fingers twitched) as he stared at her almost confused. She shook off the feeling to draw the young man, while more questioned pooped up on her head, one stood out:
Why would they send down a young guard?
Her thoughts questioned as his voice broke through herself reflection.
"If the airs toxic, were dead anyways, Princess." Was his only response before his sister (nobody has a sister?) spoke out softly to the 100 onlookers, 'Bellamy?' and the man answered with a smirk, "Octavia?" his voice questioned as he brought her into a hug before the others started making comments of that no one had a brother (of course they didn't—rule are fucking rules) and Octavia got the wild look that most wolves do with their temper spiking, "Hey! Let them remember you for something other than that. Like being the first to step on the ground in a hundred years." The young man smirked to his sister as he pulled the level filling the whole dropship in a blinding white light.
The door gave way, and the light fought the darkness of the ship, and dulled as it settled within the darkest of it.
Colors.
Splashes of greens painted themselves as they stared in awe of the woods around them.
Bellamy kept them in check, watching as his sister made her way down the fallen door.
"We're back bitches!"
Her explanation brought a smile to his face before joining his sisters' side and leaving the dropship.
Clarke stood back, afraid that it was a dream that was going to become a nightmare of reality. She sighed to herself, turning around and heading back into the ship to grab the map that was printed for them.
They need to find food.
Once she had the map, she finally made her way out of the dropship, jumping off the side of the ramp with a fast growing smile on her face.
It was beautiful. The trees and the colors, so vivid and almost like living in an acid dream. But she couldn't look at it too long, she had work to do. The smile fell quickly as she eyed something far off in the distance. Her feet traveled down a nonexistent path to an overlook of some sort, the clearing showing a clear view of a mountain. She looked at the map in her hand, clear as day were the answers in her hands.
"Why the long face, Princess?" Finn appeared at her side, shocking her out of thinking in a startle that he barely noticed. She gasped at the nickname he had given her, it twisted something in her gut like painful spikes. "We're on the ground." He clarified to her once seeing her side glance.
Pursing her lips together, "You see that mountain over there?"
"Yeah, so?"
"There is an acid radiated forest between us, and our next meal." She explained to him.
He just stood there shocked next to her.
"That is Mt. Weather. They dropped us on the wrong dam mountain." She voiced out loud to the boy next to her, before switching her direction back to the dropship. She needed to map out the distance that would be needed to travel.
A hand was place on her lower back, making her freeze momentarily before she could smell him, "Wells." She voiced with declared venom, "What do you want?"
"Who taught you how to do that?" He ignored her question, looking over shoulder at the map.
"My father." Clarke whispered back at him. Her elbow shot back into his stomach to give them some space, "I repeat: what do you want?"
"We need to talk, Clarke." He answered sincerely while his eyes scanned the others as they roamed the forest, "Their wolves—"
"We all are, Wells. Or have you forgotten?" She seethed, her defenses raising with her wolf. She didn't want to have this conversation, especially with others roaming around. Her fingers came to her wrist where not only way the band for monitoring, but the thin sliver one. Her fingers burned as they glazed over it, "We're not talking about this."
"Clarke, they can't know." He pleaded while his eyes darted to her wrist. His eyes stayed their for a moment or two, before he shook his head to clear his thoughts, "But that is not what I was going to say. It's about your fa—"
"Don't talk about my father." Her voice rose, drawing a couple a stares in her direction, "You shouldn't be here, Wells." She finished softly, turning back to her maps, "We need to leave." She told the group simply as she could. She knew that they would be listening.
Wolves and their goddam fucking hearing, she supposed.
"Why don't the privilege do something for a change?" Bellamy spoke up for the crowd, "Let them do the work for once." He stood in front of the others as they gathered around him.
"We all need to go. Two people can't carry enough food for a hundred. And if we don't leave now, the hunger we will get, and the difficult it will be to go. So we leave now." She pointed out the flaw in his system. She was not going to be pushed and shoved. The stubborn streak she got had run from both of her parents.
Bellamy, on his part, stood in silent contemplation, "No." He shook his head, anger filling him at the thought of being under the rule of the privilege once again, "You're—people—locked up my people. Turn into your wolves and there—voila, you can carry more." Snickers broke out through the small settlement.
Bellamy smirked.
She sighed, "Even then," She started knowing that for all intends and purpose she should keep the fact that she has a silver band on her, "We would still need more than two."
This is not how she wanted it to go. Her wolf paced in her head, in a thin restraint, making her head pound at the force. The skin under the silver band increased its burn. Wells pushed himself in front of her, like it would stop anything that was thrown their way.
They were weak, and powerless with bracelets on.
"Oh, is that too much for your dainty wolf, Princess." Other joined in, pushing Wells out of the picture in front of her, and holding him back. Wells, was being pushed around by the others (he—no, they—were weak). They haven't even been back on the planet their ancestors had abandoned for even an hour, and they were rebelling against each other, "Come on, Princess. We don't have all day for you."
When she was young, she hated violence and the destruction it caused. For violence begot violent acts. She would only resort to that at the final moment, and if there was no other way to resolve the problem. Now, that didn't mean her father didn't show her how to fight—some. She knew how to stop the boys from getting too close for her liking, and know she means business. Now, in this new situation, she could see why some liked it so much. The power was addicting like a drug with an impact of like venom.
Yet, here was Bellamy; just asking to become what she had fought against her whole life. The living fucking embodiment; people thinking that they know her. Nobody ever does, or will, she thought fleeting. In a flicker of her eyes to Wells (even being held back, she could see the panic flash in his eyes. She can't worry about that) she knew what she was going to have to do. She wanted to laugh at this situation, though she knew that it would only make the situation worse. On the plus side, she had some new to take her frustrations out on so she put her plan into motion.
First, starting with wiping that fucking smile off his face.
And she did just that.
With her fist.
It was probably not the smartest idea.
After all, she was playing with the wolves.