Author's Note:

Hello all, ask and ye shall receive. Though I suppose "ye shall receive" no matter what because I am enjoying this story. Thanks to all who have been reviewing, I can't really express the feeling that I get throughout the week when I check back on the story to see that yet another viewer has enjoyed enough to respond. It feeds my soul. Anywho, I'm glad to see that so many people are interested. Couple of technical notes: Italicized = Trigedasleng (sometimes something is being spoken in Trigedasleng but I have written it in english for both my ease of writing your ease of understanding). If it's Italicized then its being spoken in Trigedasleng. Bold = Translation to English (when there is something that I feel was important to put in actual Trigedasleng but I still want you to know what the person said without having to go find the translation yourself). I do this mostly when Clarke herself isn't really understanding what was said. Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter V - Bonds, New and Old

Clarke's blood had run blue that day. The bullet that had grazed her side had not been too deep and, luckily, had gone clean through. Clarke had cleaned the wound as best she could and had been amazed at how quickly it had healed and scarred. Her other wound had not healed quite as quickly and, though it had sealed over in just a few days, she now had a small chunk missing from the top of her left ear. The blue blood and advanced healing puzzled Clarke, though she was grateful for it, and she wished again that she had access to the Ark's medical books. Her on the ground all she could do was theorize, maybe it was because she had finally shifted? Maybe it was because she was no longer on the suppressants? Maybe all her people healed like this when not being drugged? Perhaps her blood had always been blue and her mother had done something else to keep even Clarke from knowing? Whatever the cause of these changes, over the next few months Clarke found that she would have plenty more learning opportunities.

It had been about two and a half months since Clarke had crash landed and she had accomplished a lot. The radio had been broken in her altercation with the men from Mount Weather and Clarke was entirely unsure if the radiation device was still functional or not but she kept it in a bush on the bank of her water pool. That first day she had returned to the crash site and dug around more, removing anything that would give anything close to proof of life. She also brought the two blankets to her waterfall cave and, though they had taken a while to dry, she now had a passably comfortable place to sleep.

Clarke had burned through her rations after the first month and had since been slowly getting the hang of hunting. Mostly rabbits and squirrels so far but just yesterday she had taken down a small boar and it had been the first full stomach she had had since... well since pretty much ever. She had been delighted to find that the cool stream that her waterfall led into was not only drinkable but clear and almost sweet. Certainly the best water she had ever had. Over the course of her time on the ground she had also been gradually getting stronger. Her run in with the men from Mount Weather had shaken her, she had cried for an hour once the shock had worn off. She had almost died, she had killed someone, a living breathing person. What if the man had had a family? Besides her self-doubt and guilt the other thing that Clarke had taken away from the encounter was that she needed to be better. After the altercation she had all but collapsed in her small cave, a useless ball of nerves, exhaustion and pain. To survive on the ground she quickly realized that she was going to have to hone her new body, be better.

A week after she had killed the man from Mount Weather the fog came again and was followed by another three guys in rad suits that had come to collect their dead. They also returned to her drop site and had scanned the area, but this time Clarke had stayed hidden and they hadn't lingered for long. She had also come across more of the other grounders while hunting, but they always steered clear of her and she did the same. A couple of times she had even seen them shift between wolf and warrior, running down a kill only to shift to human form in order to collect and carry it off. Clarke wished she could shift, it would make saving food for later much easier. Being unable to cook her meals meant that she had to eat them pretty soon after the kill and having as much meat as the boar had offered proved to be somewhat of an issue. She had been forced to leave nearly half of it in the woods, a colossal waste in Clarke's eyes.

Clarke was midway into her third month on the ground when she saw her first grounder battalion. Thirty warriors strong slipping through the trees adorned with full war paint. Clarke had been on the scent trail of a group of deer when she had detected them. Curiously she followed along at a distance to see what such a large group could possibly be doing. She had only ever seen groups of three or four in the past so whatever this was must be a big deal. She followed them until they came upon a small encampment. There were twenty or so grounders in the camp but as Clarke watched them she noticed several marked differences between the hunters and these new people. The grounders in this camp were wild eyed and talked mostly in grunts and savage guttural noises. The normal grounders Clarke had come across were far from refined but they at least were precise, measured, intelligent. These new grounders looked and acted more like wild animals than people.

Last month Clarke had discovered the (or at least a) main grounder camp and had since been returning often to listen in on their late night stories and observe their livelihood. She had been trying to pick up some of the language but hadn't gotten very far. She had, however, picked up enough to understand that when one of the warriors muttered "Joken Ripas" under his breath he was referring to the creatures in front of them. "Joken" seemed to be a form of expletive, as best as Clarke could guess.

Clarke watched intently and when the group of grounders reached the (presumed) "Ripa" camp they spread out until they were half way circling the small clearing. Clarke watched from the shadows as a warrior stepped forward and out into the open. Clarke recognized him as the same man that had thrown that spear on her first day; she had seen him several times since but hadn't been this close since that first encounter. As he stepped into the edge of the firelight all heads suddenly swiveled towards him and the man beasts around the fire rose up with an animalistic cry. They were answered by the responding war cry from all around them as the rest of the small army flooded out of the trees. The Ripas fought like rabid animals, all instinct and no restraint. Clarke continued to watch the scene in front of her, creeping closer and closer as the grounders ruthlessly bore down on the camp.

A cry of pain caught Clarke's attention and her head snapped to the side in time to see the grounder man from before dispatch two enemies at once before bending low and clutching at a dagger embedded in his side. As he bent over another Ripa broke away from the main battle and charged towards him. Clarke howled a warning but among all the other howls and growls and clanging of weapons her warning was lost in the air. Without thinking Clarke leaped from her hiding spot and dashed towards the crouched grounder.

The grounder looked up just as the Ripa came barreling downwards, had Clarke been paying any attention to him she would have seen and smelled the grounder's sudden fear. As it was, she put on a last burst of speed, leaped into the air, and came down pulling her target down with her. The feral woman in her teeth let out a scream as Clarke made contact but she was dead before they hit the ground. Clarke slowly unclenched her jaw and stood up shakily, she had just killed someone, again. The woman below her had hardly been human, but still. When she had killed the man from the mountain it had given her nightmares for weeks, she had actually thrown up as soon as she got back to her cave. The boar and deer that she hunted for food were one thing, but taking someone's life? Clarke's body shuddered, and Clarke continued to pant as the warm blood of her kill dripped from her teeth. It had been instinctual, both times so far. She had saved herself, and she had saved the man who had killed for her. That didn't make it right.

Clarke looked up as one of the warriors approached the man she had just saved and only then did Clarke realize that the fighting was over. Bodies of the deranged, partially-human Ripas lay on the ground, and one of them was there because of Clarke. Clarke suddenly realized that she was now stood not three meters from two of the grounder warriors, the closest and most exposed she had been since her first day on the ground.

The one who had approached spoke then to the one Clarke had saved. The approaching man glanced at her briefly before continuing, "Linkon osir don tua laksen ba non stedaunon." "Lincoln we have a dozen wounded but no casualties."

The man, who must be Linkon, groaned and with a wince stood at his full height, "Mochof Jarko." He turned then and nodded towards Clarke, she had to fight the urge to back up a step. She had to make contact with these people sometime right? She stood her ground. As 'Jarko' nodded and retreated towards the fire, Lincoln turned his attention fully towards Clarke. He gestured towards himself and offered her a pained smile, "ai laik Linkon com Trikru. Mochof Wanheda, ai ouyon yu ai sonraun." "I am Lincoln of the tree people. Thank you Wanheda, I owe you my life" Though Clarke didn't really know what he had said she had learned enough to recognize it as an introduction, there was nothing hostile in his voice. So Clarke simply tilted her head in return before turning and disappearing back into the woods.

As the months went by Clarke grew more and more comfortable with her new lifestyle. She slept in her cave, relaxed by her small forest pool, hunted for fish and deer and boar and rabbits, and she continued to watch the people in the village. Clarke liked to watch the villagers, she enjoyed listening to the language and it brought a smile to her face whenever she heard the laughter of the children or saw them playing at the edge of the fence line.

Winter had been tough and adapting to the snow and the cold had been an unexpected challenge, but by the time Clarke estimated that she had been on the ground for nearly a year she felt more confident on the ground than she ever had on the Ark. After that first Ripa ambush all those months ago Clarke had continued to take part in the grounder skirmishes. She had slowly begun to reconcile the killings with herself and, although she had yet to get into the thick of any of the fights, she now knew several warriors by name and she accepted that this was the way of life on the ground. They protected each other and the people of 'Trikru' now welcomed her into their hunting parties whenever she decided to tag along.

Clarke had come a long way from the wide-eyed, terrified pup that had landed on the ground all those months ago. She had gotten stronger, harder, her body and her senses honed by practice and necessity. The months of fending for herself and fighting alongside the grounders had increased her endurance and she was now as at home running all day through the forest as she ever was scampering through the Ark. She missed her people, her family, her friends, but life on the ground made Clarke feel more alive than she ever had before. Her single greatest regret and continued frustration was her lack of ability to get word to her people. If only they could be here with her, experience the wonders that existed where they believed to be only barren wasteland.

Clarke drew out of her musings and memories, they were approaching the Rippa camp. Clarke could smell the Ripas, they were no more than a few dozen meters out, she and the grounders started to slow their pace. Quietly, they stocked forward until they had the group in sight. There were only around fifteen of them and none seemed to be paying close enough attention to have noticed them. Lincoln gave the quiet command to spread out and once in position they all burst from the trees in unison, as planned. However, the group of savages were more prepared than they had given them credit for and as soon as they entered the clearing there came savage growls from their backs. It was a trap, and they had fallen right into it. Clarke whipped around in time to see a dirty gray wolf fly forwards and take down one of her allies. The Ripas that they thought they had trapped came from the other direction and chaos ensued.

The battle was short but bloody and not a single member on either side came out unscathed. Clarke had gone down at the very end as she had lunged to save a warrior about to be torn apart, in the process she had been sliced with a sword to her side. Her attacker must have been dealt with as there were no follow up blows but Clarke couldn't be sure as her entire focus became holding onto consciousness. The sounds of battle ceased and Clarke was aware of a large warrior bending down over her and pressing a piece of fabric to her wound. There was some rushed conversation and the voice she recognized as Linkon's sounded angry. The only phrase she caught and understood was "ouska jus." Jus she knew to mean "blood" and it made sense that they would be talking about her dark blue blood, thus far she had managed to stay at the fringe of these battles, able to flee upon sustaining injury, vanishing before allowing anyone to see the strange quality of her life's blood. Guess the cat was out of the bag now. She let out a snarl as she was lifted into the air but her protests died as her side flared and she slipped into unconsciousness.

Clarke awoke in a small tent with a large man stood at a table next to her a few feet away. Her side ached but glancing down at her wound she was relieved to see that it was already mostly healed. Her rapid healing still amazed her and not for the first time she wondered if the council or her mother knew just how much their drugs affected the bodies of the Arkers. Or perhaps Clarke only healed so fast because she was an "Apex Alpha" she wasn't sure, but she sure wasn't complaining. The trait had saved her a hundred times over as she was learning to hunt and after she had limped her way back to her cave after scuffles with the Rippas.

The man, who must have treated her wound, turned when he noticed her movement and Clarke was able to get the general idea of what he said next. Something along the lines of; "Wanheda my name is Nyko, I am happy you are well, you heal quickly." At least, she was pretty sure that last bit was about her healing. Unsure of what to do next Clarke slowly got to her feet and nodded to him. He proceeded to say something else to her but it was too complicated for Clarke to understand and she tilted her head quizzically at him. Another quick sentence in the still mostly foreign language, Clarke didn't react beyond attempting to shrug her shoulders. Then the man did something that Clarke would never have expected, he spoke in English.

"Do you understand like this?"

Clarke's eyes widened and she nodded her head vigorously. The man, Nyko, looked somewhat taken aback, apparently not having actually expected for Clarke to understand. He got over it quickly however and continued, a grin growing on his face, "you speak Gonaslang and yet you are not from the mountain?" He posed it as a question and Clarke backed up a step letting out a low growl, she had killed one of the mountain men on her first day on the ground. How could he ask her if she was one of them?

"No no," he quickly backtracked, "I didn't mean that I thought you were one of the Mounon." he held up his hands, "I was just saying what I believed was the truth." Clarke calmed herself and he continued, "did you truly come from the sky Wanheda?" Clarke nodded excitedly and Nyko shook his head seemingly in disbelief. Then he asked the question that Clarke had most been hoping for, "why do you always appear as a wolf Wanheda, you have a human form do you not?"

Clarke's eyes widened as she suddenly realized that maybe Nyko could actually help her, nodding her head in confirmation she whined and turned so that her shoulder was facing the large man. Nyko however didn't seem to understand and, with a huff, Clarke walked over to the table and began to rub her shoulder roughly up and down against the edge of the tabletop. Returning to Nyko she showed him her shoulder again and this time he tentatively reached out a hand. When Clarke made no move to stop him he pressed his fingers into the spot she had been rubbing and frowned when he felt the small device underneath her fur and skin. Clarke whined again and jumping up she grabbed one of the knives that was sitting on the table. She proceeded to drop it at Nyko's feet before turning and once again exposing the spot just below her shoulder.

Nyko seemed to get it this time, "I think I understand Wanheda, allow me to go and get Linkon and our chief, Indra. I will return in a minute."

He left quickly through the tent flap and Clarke waited impatiently, she was so close to being able to shift again. She had grown to love being a wolf but having the ability to shift at will sounded like a dream come true. She waited for about five minutes before Nyko came back into the tent, he was followed by Linkon and the woman that Clarke assumed must be Indra. She had seen the woman once or twice as she watched the comings and goings of the Trikru but she had never been in close proximity. She had the air of someone in command, a strong Alpha, Clarke would have pegged her as a leader even without Nyko's earlier statement. Clarke inclined her head to the pair and was greeted by a grin from Linkon and a head tilt and "Wanheda" from Indra.

Clarke waited impatiently as Nyko explained the situation and after Clarke nodded in confirmation Indra finally agreed. Indra turned to Linkon, "get her some clothes, if after this she is indeed able to shift she will need them." Linkon nodded and then winked at Clarke, a slight smile on his face, before ducking out of the tent.

Ten minutes later, Nyko was holding the tiny metal and rubber tube looking device between thumb and forefinger and his hand was covered in dark blue blood. With the device that had held her in wolf form for over a year finally out Clarke closed her eyes and focused. She tried to remember as many details as she could about what she looked like in human form, focusing on her arms and her hands, the limbs she had not felt for a year. She felt something inside her start to give, she latched onto the feeling and pushed harder. She felt her eyes ignite and she cried out in pain as her bones began to crack.

Thirty seconds later and Clarke knelt, hunched over, head down and elbows on the floor. Elbows on the floor... Her eyes snapped open and she slowly sat up, her back arched and cracked as she straightened up and as her long blonde hair fell away from her face the three other occupants of the room took small steps back. Clarke blinked and she felt her eyes return to normal. She looked down at her body, she felt no shame as she stood naked before her three companions. She was back, she was really back. She had muscle where a year ago she had had none, looking down she grinned noticing that she even had abs, her form was strong, lithe, but it was her nonetheless. She raised her hands in front of her, clenching and unclenching her fingers. It felt good.

The next year passed by quickly. She grew closer to the Trikru and although she never revealed her human form to them again they developed a fairly close relationship. Linkon and Nyko she could safely call friends and the latter had patched her up many times since the day he had removed her blocker implant. The two of them and Indra remained the only ones who had ever seen her human form, and they seemed to respect her enough to not push her into anything.

Clarke spent long periods of time not only fighting alongside them but also learning. She and Linkon would spend hours a day sometimes in the woods where he would simply tell her stories and talk to her in a mix of English (what they called Gonalsang) and the Trikru language (Trigedasleng). He was the only one (of her three acquaintances) that she had spent any more time with in human form; and, while far from fluent, once she had a teacher Clarke had picked up the basics of the language fairly quickly. Clarke also enjoyed spending time in the village with the children. They were playful and after getting over their initial fear of Clarke's size and reputation they had taken to her quite quickly. She spent hours sometimes letting them clamber over her and nuzzling them playfully.

As Clarke approached her second Earth anniversary the months began to drag, and Clarke began to lose hope that the rest of her people were ever going to arrive. It wasn't until around mid fall, roughly two and a half years after Clarke had landed on the ground, that something finally happened. Clarke was setting out for her morning hunt when she heard the sound. Her head snapped up to the sky, it could only be one thing.

The ship was falling fast and Clarke lost it just over the tree line, just before she heard the impact. It wasn't far and she ran full sprint. Reaching the crash site she crouched, waiting, watching from just out of sight. The ship was not large enough to be carrying all of her people, most likely they had sent scientists and engineers, probably a portion of the guard, as a preliminary party ahead of the rest of The Ark; a group sent to scope out and prepare the ground for survival. Clarke was eager to see her people, but almost three years on the ground had taught her to be cautious. So she waited with baited breath, hoping against hope that her mother and Raven were about to walk out of that door. She watched from her cover as the ship's door swung open and out stepped a teenage girl. She had long dark hair and a smile brighter than any sunny day. Clarke watched with a sudden smile on her face as the girl raised her arms into the air and shouted "we're back bitches!"

Then the rest of the ship's occupants came flooding out and Clarke was startled to see what looked to be only teenagers. As more and more people her own age came pouring out Clarke suddenly realized what the council must have done. These were all of the underaged criminals from the Skybox, those cowards had sent down those that they saw as expendable because they weren't sure if the ground was survivable yet. Clarke growled low in her throat, their mistake. Then her ears perked and she spun around. There were Trikru warriors in the trees, probably scouts. Clarke growled in the general direction they were in, a clear warning, before taking off towards the Trikru camp. She would have to talk to Indra.

Upon her arrival at the camp she had been granted a meeting with Indra and, once it had been just the two of them and Linkon in the room, Clarke had shifted to her human form and proceeded to tell them about what she knew of the drop ship of delinquents. Telling them that they were her people had been met with tense silence at first but Indra had finally agreed not to do more than observe, for the time being. However, she told Clarke that soon the head Trikru general would arrive to oversee and deal with the new possible threat. Said general, Anya kom Trikru, arrived the evening of the following day and, though Clarke had refused to meet with her in human form, negotiations had gone well. Clarke's reputation as Wanheda preceded her and Anya seemed to be a fair leader. She had agreed to allow Clarke the opportunity to negotiate peace and had followed Indra's lead in setting guidelines. As long as the "sky people" didn't attack or cross the river border then they would be left alone. The one rule that Clarke had tried to argue against was the one that Anya had clung to most strongly. She was adamant that Clarke not shift into human form at any time while in the presence of "Skaikru."

Despite being vouched for by both Linkon and, more surprisingly, Indra, Anya still didn't want any chance of Clarke giving up grounder secrets to a possibly hostile force. Clarke supposed she couldn't blame the Trikru general, she did not know Clarke personally and Clarke likewise did not trust Anya. So in the end Clarke agreed to the terms and thanked Anya with a nod of her head. Thus ended negotiations and Clarke decided that all in all she had come out with what she had wanted; at the very least Anya wasn't rallying a war party, and Clarke left in high spirits.

The next day dawned early for Clarke and, after stretching and taking a long drink from her stream, she ventured off into the woods. She wanted something to eat before heading to the drop ship as well as some time to think about exactly how she wanted to go about making contact. Yesterday had been long and exhausting and, though she certainly spoke the language well enough, having to process everything in Trigedasleng had been a bit of a strain and had left Clarke completely wiped.

As she ventured through the woods towards the drop site Clarke's mind wandered again to Raven. She had so much she wanted to tell her, show her. Her mate may not have been on this ship but if Clarke could negotiate peace and if the other delinquents could radio and relay information to the Ark, well... She tried not to get too excited but the possibility was there that she could see Raven and her mother in less than a month. After almost three years that was a heartwarming prospect.

Clarke hunted as she mused and she had just begun to dig into her kill when she heard a scream. It came from the direction of the river and Clarke immediately broke into a run, her partially eaten boar entirely forgotten. What if one of her people had crossed the river? What if they had been attacked and her carefully negotiated peace had already been shattered? She pushed herself faster and, nearing the edge of the woods, she immediately took in the situation. There was a small group of teens across the river and they were shouting at another of their group who was currently in the water. It was the same dark haired girl from the other day and she was making her way as quickly as she could towards Clarke's side of the river. She was also being chased by a river snake and Clarke could smell blood.

Clarke stopped at the edge of the woods and looked frantically around, the girl looked like she would make it to shore, what Clarke was really worried about were the Trikru warriors that she knew were posted at the agreed boundary line. Spotting a warrior crouched a dozen meters or so down the bank Clarke began to move again. She heard the gasp from behind her as the girl made it to the riverbank but she paid it no mind. Recognizing the warrior she could only push herself faster as Rau hefted her spear. With a last burst of speed Clarke closed the gap and full body-checked her friend. She heard the startled cry from the woman as well as a cry of pain from behind her. She spun to see that the spear that would have killed the girl had instead just grazed her arm.

Relieved, Clarke turned to Rau. She had picked herself up off the ground and had been joined by two other warriors (whom Clarke didn't know by name) and they were all glaring at her. She ignored their looks and growled eyes flashing purple, they backed down. "I hope you know what you are doing Wanheda." With that Rau turned and disappeared into the woods along with her companions.

Clarke felt the tension leave her body and with a sigh of relief she turned and made her way back down the bank to where the girl was crouched, wide eyed, behind a tree, and nursing her arm and leg (which appeared to have been bitten). Clarke approached as slowly and non-threateningly as she could but upon seeing her the girl still jumped. However, to Clarke's surprise she didn't scream or even look particularly frightened. In fact the girl just rolled her eyes and threw her hands up, glaring at Clarke, "oh, just perfect. All that only to be killed by a damn wolf."

Author's Note:

Two down one to go. I know Octavia might be a bit of a controversial one. Shoutout to Zelda_and_fitz for for commenting on Clarke's third soul mark being delayed back in chapter one. It was indeed because of Octavia's birth. I found it intriguing, the idea that as a new life is made, so too is the bond formed.

Thanks for reading and I look forward to any and all input. A lot happened this chapter.