Clarke's eyes gravitate toward Levitt as all others follow the path Octavia was making toward the towering warrior who'd risen from his seated place between Indra and the man who was O's new love interest around the fire pit.

To his credit, Levitt doesn't seem upset at all watching the woman he'd come to love clinging to another for all she was worth and more as she nuzzles her face against the crook of Lincoln's strong shoulder as he holds her off the ground just as tightly. Her legs locked over his hips his arms surrounding her in a tender unwavering embrace as she cries into his shoulder. Lincoln dips his head to whisper soft words of comfort in the old grounder tongue to her as she cries.

Levitt shrugged his shoulders at the unvoiced question in the blonde's eyes as he absently pokes at the spark of flames with the end of one of the sticks Picasso had been proudly carrying back with him.

"She wasn't the only one that missed his stupidly handsome mug." Raven shrugged from Levitt's other side as she balances the burning candle in her lap. "and it still leaves you twelve more times to mess with our sleeping habits." The girl that likes to make things go boom grins sending the now pink-in-the-face Wanheda a teasing wink.

"I wasn't saying anything." Clarke argues

"No cause you were too busy moaning and or shouting it." Raven jokes "Seriously Griff, how are you able to talk properly after last night?"

Clarke didn't answer choosing instead to watch as Lincoln skillfully maneuvers over the uneven ground to carry the still trembling Octavia to a much more unoccupied part of the shoreline.

"Are you really alright with this?" Clarke murmurs picking up a stick to aimlessly prod the small fire warming the rest of her small family band.

"She….They deserve a proper goodbye." Levitt murmurs his eyes on Lincon's retreating back.