It's Monroe that runs up to Clarke first; she has her arms out and prepping for a jump but she stops a self-conscious step away when she notices how closely a Grounder stands beside their own, it has her keeping decorum. "Glad you're back, I was about to set out with our own rescue party."
"Thanks for worrying about me." Clarke opens her arms and Zoe practically falls into the Omega's embrace. "I really appreciate it."
Monroe uneasily backs off when more and more of their people realize who had come back to base. Anya steps aside and allows the Arker's rambunctious greeting to commence. Clarke had asked for her to be a background support. She respects that Clarke wishes to gain allegiance from her own people by her own prowess so Anya resigns stay as a spectator for now.
One after another they come forward to hug Clarke. Many of them owed their and their mate's lives to her. Atom had filled in everyone who had remained in the dropship on Clarke's plan against the Lerna and what had happened afterwards. To how the Grounders had taken in those severely wounded on the beach and of the aid sent to the dropship.
They are all in good spirits if a bit bruised and on the mend. There has been little work done on the surrounding area near the dropship. Most choosing to sequester within thick metal walls and care to the wounded they have instead of venturing for materials. The defenses raised are a minimalistic palisade; stocks of wood sharpened as a loose perimeter and done by the Grounders' practiced hand instead of novice Arkers'.
There's a bonfire near the side of the ship, close enough to heat up the metal to ward against the night's cold. The fire highlights the beaming faces of her pack and licks into the confines of the dropship. There's a gleam of polished steel that draws Clarke's attention. It's a pillar of bracelets, stacked one on top of another in the very center of the hold. After a scan of the shrine she counts more bracelets than their dead toll. She stares at the delinquents' wrists, finding far too many without the Ark's tech on their bodies.
"What have you done?" She grabs Sterling's wrists making his expression sour. "Where's your wrist band?!"
He doesn't yank away from Clarke's grip, still deferring to the person that had fixed his arm. His head droops and his glance casts onto Murphy, who's leaning against the drop ship's doorframe and has one leg crossed over his ankle.
He's smirking when he flippantly displays his bare wrist to Clarke with a wave.
"What did you do?" Clarke's words are ice as she moves pass the crowd, they concede to her as she streams straight towards Murphy.
"Hey, hey princess, calm down." He's still grinning but it's marred by the wound from the Lerna, it had closed up to pinking scar jagged and slicing into his hairline. He has his palms open and up in a shrug as Clarke storms towards him.
Sterling sulks forward and takes to Murphy's side. Jones, Atom and Nathan also come from inside the dropship to place next to Murphy. Murphy looks to his left and right, noting Bellamy's wolves coming to support him since he was the one that brought Bell's most recent decree from TonDC. The remaining 100 start splitting, some are going into the ship behind Murphy while others crowd just behind Clarke. Monroe takes to Clarke's left while Anya stands vigilant at Clarke's right.
"The shrine is erected to remember those that died, you can appreciate that right?" Murphy is on the door's edge, looking down the incline at Clarke, he's basking in the backup of Bellamy's wolves and that's when his smile turns vicious. "Though we didn't get all of them, not Finn's wristband but you," Murphy shoves his cruelness against Clarke's patience, punctuation after each word. "Already. Knew. That."
Clarke doesn't let him see the hurt he's inflicted. He's taken aback by her silent rage and wilts just a smidge under her disdainful glare. The others shirk from Clarke's displeasure. She's disappointed that pieces of their limited tech have been mangled into some macabre shrine. Pieces melted down to form a base for all the lives already taken. She's quaking with anger, frustration seeping from her at the lack of foresight in her people's actions.
Her scent is sharp. Painful to those closes to her. Her displeasure sets off a growl in several.
"Hadn't the boys that died cold and alone in the dropship been enough of a wakeup call? How can you all not be aware of how responsible we are for the actions we take?" She's turning slowly, addressing every Arker. "Hadn't you all even stopped to think why we would have the wrist bands in the first place?"
"So they wanted to monitor us, I say why help them when they threw us down here to die!" Murphy throws his hands up; physically tugging away from Clarke's ire. "You're privileged, how could you understand the shit the rest of us have had to deal with, how can you expect us to help the killers of our fathers and mothers."
"They sent us down here because there's a malfunction to the oxygen recycling systems, they've taken your father but how many of us have family still on the Ark, family who are now suffering from oxygen deprivation?" Many in the crowd straighten from their ready stance; looking to one another to see similar expressions of worry. "There's a limited supply and we were sent down to let them know if Earth is habitable."
"They don't matter." Murphy takes a menacing step forward but she holds firm. She won't back down from whatever insanity he intends to drive their people into.
"My mother does." Dax speaks out, he's stationed behind Murphy but shoulders pass the others, making his way to Clarke's side.
One by one the people inch down towards Clarke; the mention of their parents bringing them cowed and contrite away from Murphy.
Murphy glares at the people leaving him, snarling at each that dare to switch sides. Those wounded from within the ship are woken by the commotion and after gleaning a conflict about to brew between Murphy and Clarke they all leave the confines of the ship for a space next to Clarke.
When Miles comes out last with an arm around Roma's waist, Monroe is quick to rush over to help. Murphy takes one glance and his hand twitches but before he can snatch at those escaping his control, Clarke is ascending the ramp of the ship to stand level to him and a barrier defending those leaving.
"Stand down Murphy, whatever this nonsense is, it ends now."
Murphy casts his eyes out on the Arkers that left him; he can't find Bellamy so his vindictiveness over the turning tides has no supporters.
"Fuck you," he spits at metal beneath their feet, "would have thought a law abiding privilege would have respect for our dead but not for our lowly lives right? Not for my father, not for me and not for anyone of you idiots," he points out at the people with a sneer, "she's fooled into her cause."
He's starting to appear as an animal corner, any action looking better than being torn from his place. Anything cornered will bite and Clarke's instincts have her stiffening. There's a ferocious snarl as Wells comes bounding before her as guard, the thick fur along his neck and back stand on end. He growls at Murphy, startling him onto his ass with a yelp. Then just as Wells had come from the shadows so does Bellamy, he's hiding his limp well and stations himself protectively before Murphy's prone form. Wells is confused at his companion and looks to Clarke before hardening his resolve, his fangs revealing as he barks. Bellamy returns in kind, feral and pitted against the wolf he had ran with. He's making some in the crowd answer, his Alpha pull drawing on their obedience again.
They've fallen under his call once and could again.
The crowd is separating, some forgetting Clarke's words and inching towards Bellamy. There's barely enough room for the two humans and wolves on the incline to the ship, there certainly isn't enough for the Arkers trying to near their leaders.
Bellamy is unrelenting in his stance and so is Wells. The two at odds once again and the tension in the air draws the other Arkers closer and closer. The people are drawn in but instinctively flow around Anya who is rigid, kept in place by her promise to be silent support to Clarke. No one dares touch the Grounder in their midst, all able to feel her malcontent in waves.
Clarke places her hand on Wells' scruff, calming her friend before walking to stand before Bellamy. The entire collective ceases their breaths in fretful anticipation. Watching the Omega approach the Alpha they've been called to follow once before.
"We have to act as leaders, you and I."
Bellamy's eyes are clouded but his ferocious growls wilt under Clarke's words. He was feral when he had seen Murphy fall; there's something inherent in him that makes him a protector. Guilt moves him along with instinct; it was him that issued the destruction of the bands. He had instigated this and it shouldn't be Murphy that shoulders the blame.
"Wells was only against Murphy coming at me, we never intended to hurt him, and I understand that he thought that this was in some way a remembrance of the dead." Clarke reaches out a steady hand on puts it on the back of Bellamy's neck; his ears flatten against his head and his gaze turns askew to the ground. "Stand down."
There's no pause when Bellamy lies on his stomach, heaving a sigh as he drops his head to his paws. Those that had moved from the crowd to answer their Alpha also bend down. Eyes casts respectfully away from Clarke as Bellamy had done.
There's a shifting of power and while Murphy is looking bewildered at the turn of events Clarke can feel each of Bellamy's wolves tether to her and those already on her side becoming more attuned. She can't dance around the responsibility any longer.
"I do respect the dead," her voice shakes at the memory of Finn, "and I feel for every one of you."
The Arkers are attentively listening.
"If you want to respect the dead then do so by living and showing the Ark our life, they are going to run out of air soon and if they don't think it's safe on Earth then everything will be lost. There was tech to be scavenged and metal to be repurposed and while it's been wasted we've learnt from this, we won't be careless anymore but we can pay tribute to those that died, honour their sacrifice by thriving as a pack and keeping them in our memories as we continue protecting our own."
Clarke can feel their very essence heeding to her, sense the attentiveness at the core of their beings. There's a tangibility forming in the air, the unfamiliar quality that gives them their second forms is not only pulsing in their veins. There's the energy of the moon that bides them and the life that glows within them manifesting in the clearing. She can touch the bands that emit from each shapeshifter, can entice the individual cords to weave through the group and back into her.
They are answering her and she's willing to shoulder their burdens and take reign. "I know I'll give anything to protect each and every one of you, none of you are expendable to me."
Those that hadn't kneeled before do so now.
Clarke accepts their submission.
She's leading her Arkers.