"The beast went this way!"

"Follow the tracks!"

The sound of blood-curdling screams and neighing of horses, their hooves beating the ground woke Clarke from her sleep. The sun rose earlier, but the chill of last night still lingered and it was easier for Clarke to get back to her feet with enough vigilance. She stamped the fire - or whatever's left of it - dead and assessed the close voices reverberating in the area; one hand already clasped on her gun, the other she used to raise the cloth wrapped on her neck to conceal half of her face.

"Kill it when it appears!"

Grounders.

Almost instinctively, Clarke felt the adrenaline spiked, the blood in her veins surged and the danger alarmed in her head. She heard too many voices. It could be a pack hunting in broad daylight for food and the sky girl felt nothing but bare at the moment. She wasn't in the mood for trouble. Clarke peeked her head around the side of the tree, deeply dreaded of what was approaching and saw the group, almost a few meters away, slowing their pace, horses on a slow strut until they stopped to re-assess the situation.

"Echo, wait." One man, tall and bulk spoke - in English - with a hoarse voice towards the woman in front of him. He went down of his horse and unsheathed the sword on his hand. The sword was almost twice his size, which looked like it could kill an army. His hefty stature reminded Clarke of one of Lexa's generals. "I think it is unwise to follow it blindly. We should consider turning back for now."

The Grounder woman, or Echo as how he addressed her, shook her head, completely disinterested by the man's words at all to even look at him. Her unwavering eyes scouted the stretch for any peculiar movement. She heaved out a sigh.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ogon." She replied as she carefully dismounted her horse. She handed the reins to one of the warriors beside her who took it with a slight nod. "That monster will kill more innocent people if we just let it be." Echo kneeled and callously touched the faint tracks on the soil, tracing the outlines and carefully appraising their prey on the loose. The track was far too crisp like it had been imprinted on the ground just a moment ago and the magnitude of it sent a shiver down to her spine.

Her gaze flared. Her voice suddenly steeled and determined.

"We cannot just stop now and leave it alone."

Ogon's eyes narrowed, almost half in agreement as he felt the grit in his fellow warrior. But this was not a wolf or a bear, which they would gather for pelts or meat to be turned into a meal; they were hunting for an entirely different beast with enough madness for slaughter. Shrewd and vile all at once. "My daughter," His teeth gritted, and swallowed the pain with difficulty as if he had choked on something. The memory of her loved one burned too fresh in his mind. "She suffered greatly. I'm sure her warning served more purpose than this."

"Skye had fought well, Ogon. Whatever disabilities, I'm sure she could still live her life fully." She assured him with her sympathies and Ogon felt like the world had been lifted from his shoulders. "She'd welcome you back with a smile."

"I know." He answered with a bit more hope. "I will make sure that everything is not for naught."

"We will get back what has been lost."

Clarke pulled her face behind the tree and gasped in both surprise and disbelief. She noticed two things. First, the Commander wasn't with the group, and great, since her absence would save her the bullet and pain - and possibly death - for the day. Second, and, perhaps the greatest shocker was that the Grounders were talking about a monster loose in the open here in this woodland. A monster? She could not help but laugh in her head. The greatest threat they had encountered on the ground were these men and the fallen people of the Mountain and now they had to be distressed once more with these creatures beyond their understanding; prowling and ready to eat their flesh alive?

Suddenly, the image of the two-headed deer, the frog with the tail and the atrocious water snake living in the lake flashed like vivid pictures in her brain, and she tried to the press logic of their existence. Animals deformed by the nuclear radiation that happened almost a century ago. It wouldn't come as a surprise that some beast survived the apocalypse only for their lineage to be cursed, warped into something horrendous. They were survivors just like everyone else. And the ground is also theirs for the taking.

Clarke poked her head out once more, even more curious.

"The trail stopped here...?" Echo looked past the trees, the bushes, bewilderment spread on her face. She saw nothing.

"Ekko! Blood! There is blood over here!"

One Grounder shouted while pointing to a tree just a few distance away from them. His face seemingly thick with horror at the sight. Echo and Ogon ran towards his direction only to be surprised and frozen at the sight. They noticed a pool of blood, fresh and horrid and the putrid smell of a corpse hang behind the stock.

A fellow kin, but they could not recognize the victim. His - or her - body had been scrunched out, leaving the innards of the person's torso visible. The victim's fingers had been mangled, some settled in the dirt, bones, and flesh protruding while some were still intact. It was a mess.

"By the gods..."

"That's a very clever warning." Ekko scoffed. However, she felt no fear in its presence. Her muscles just bulged in anger. She crossed her arms on her chest. Her fingers brushed lightly on the hilt of her sword with the same ache to slice something in half.

Clarke was cautious - and careful enough - to get a good glimpse of the group's disclosure and sweet jesus how she blamed herself for doing so. The spectacle of morbid remains was the last thing she would want to see at the present. She nearly gagged, but she swallowed that sick underlying feeling which nearly came out her mouth. She took a sharp inhale, exhaled with forceful rhythm until her she felt her breathing evened. She swung the hood of her cloak over her face. The list of reasons to stay did cross the sky girl's mind. She had always been a curious lad - for better or for worse, and the nameless fear for the unknown held her still. This incident involved something else entirely, and it was probably something she could shoot at will. Thank gods.

But she also had all the logical alibi to step back and move on. To resume her quest to Polis, wherever that is. Lexa was not with them. The bullet she had saved for that woman had not left the barrel of her gun. Her anger and her murderous intent for that one specific grounder, however, had washed out for a bit over the ghastly sight of the dead at the present.

It made her remember things. Painful things.

She had to walk away and forget.

She had to and yet her body refused to move at her order. She tried to use willpower this time just to make a step, but her legs condemned her from moving an inch, as if they were terrified and wired by something - so close. Clarke's breathing turned ragged and her heart sank at the realization.

She felt the air around her grow thick and something, a smell lingered and it made her nauseous.

She was being watched.

"There are crisp marks on this trunk. This has been a recent kill."

The grounder woman touched the tree adjacent to the stock of where the corpse was. The mark was large and done by vicious claws, powerful enough to nearly ruin the tree with sheer force. Even the greatest of warriors would not fare over something this monstrous. Ekko shrugged at the thought. The Grounders had survived various onslaughts through guts and strength and this creature had jeopardized these qualities by merely offering them the corpses of their loved ones like it was a cycle. It would not be long until the Capital would be wary of the situation. There would be another bloodbath, and countless of warriors would be killed over something inhuman.

She survived the Mountain with only her tattered ego left. She trained bloody over the past few months not to let that happen once more.

She'd survive and meet that man again with deep brown eyes.

She had to kill this thing as soon as possible.

Ogon eyed Ekko, who looked mortified in her personal silence. He examined the mark and circled around the tree. Upon touching the trunk on the other side, he noticed a froth, wet and smeared from top to bottom. It looked a bit raw and it reeked of something else entirely. Ogon had to bit his lip at the stench. He snapped his head upward and saw another carcass, hanging suspended on the branch and there was a pair of eyes, staring - preying - at him and it glowed for a moment like fresh blood before it vanished in the hollow darkness.

And then above him, he heard a rushing roar of air and the tree's bent to the fury.

Alarmed, he shouted in his native tongue, hoping to get his point across. He waved his hand outside of the clearing and towards the direction of their horses.

"Clear out! The Dreadmouth is still close by!"

"What?"

"E-Ekko!"

It attacked too fast. It moved like that of a lightning bolt in the sky where it sundered the earth and fade just as soon, exalted and revered. The trees rumbled in a unified motion. Out of the bush, a warrior, battered and bloody emerged with meek steps. He cried out before his upper body got gnawed in half. It tore with a blaring sound and whatever part of him that was left fell on the ground, limp, trashed - another body count tragically added in a pile of bones.

And then it appeared. The Grounders stared at the beast, mesmerized and frozen.

The roar was frantic. It was madness with a voice and it froze Clarke to her feet. She looked back and heard the rummage of footsteps. The Grounders were scrambling out of the woods. Their swords, spears and bows clasped tightly in their hands. The trees in the vicinity broke, one by one, and out came something big, something monstrous, charging with its stout legs. It looked similar to a lion with its bare fangs out in the open, slick with blood and saliva. Its mangy hair wrapped on its neck, down to its muscular torso, crisp and golden just like the sun. It had horns that arched like lateral branches on the tip of its scaffold, perturbed out of its head and near its pointy ears.

It was majestic. It was a nightmare. If death had a face, this was probably its reflection.

"Don't hold back! Attack!"

The battle felt like it got dragged for hours. A volley of spears and arrows were fired and the sound of metal and flesh ripping resounded in the area until one luckily landed on the beast's flank. The creature made a throaty yowl before it spat acid from its mouth which stopped the front line warriors from coming near. Clever. There was a battle-cry that came out of its throat soon after, but the unrelenting barrage of steel never stopped and soon the cry of war were coming out from the Grounders. The Dreadmouth snarled in frustrated fury, but it halted its attack when it realized that it would lose a limb if it charged head on. One Grounder threw a mighty spear to hit it on its throat, but it was quick to avoid the attack. Growling even more, it started spitting a barrage of acid to one of the trees and made a swift swipe with its huge paws on its trunk where it fell in front of the Grounders.

"It's trying to get away!"

Ogon heard the Dreadmouth made some sort of amused scoff before it jumped back, where it plunged deep into the woodland.

Drip.

Clarke felt a warm liquid touched her cheek, which sizzled and her skin stung like it got burned. Stunned, Clarke raised her head upward. She saw the same replica of the horned lion, albeit smaller in size, but with a mane frazzled on the tip and it was silver and hollow. It stood askew on the stump of the tree where the sky girl was leaning on with another batch of carcass. The beast stared at her with large, unmoving eyes and it grinned before it opened its sinister mouth, wet and hungry for the paralyzed meal.

There were two of them!

"Fuck!"

She was fast enough to spin out of the swipe of its claws. She heard it hiss in dissatisfaction and at the same time a voice shrieked with rage that matched the booming tempo. Before Clarke could turn to see who shouted, a spear plunged its blade on the mouth of the prey. The screech of pain nearly made Clarke's ears bleed. The beast's blood loomed splattered all around the dirt. She turned around aghast when something - someone - rushed at her and knocked her flat on the ground.

"Your fight is over."

The last thing Clarke remembered was the loudest bellows and the painful throb on her head before her vision turned white.

The sound of morning echoed all around the settled camp of the Sky People - commonly known as Camp Jaha (even though the original Chancellor was no longer with them). The welkin was clear - even clearer - as how it was when they saw if for the first time. The sun peeked out of the clouds and the feathered critters relent over the warmth of daylight. Everything seemed so peaceful and serene and it had stayed this way for the past few months. No fights. No chaos. The order that had been established among them had calmed the fear of the people and normality soon took over.

Bellamy Blake never really thought of living his life blended in neutrality and without purpose. When the war with the Mountain Men ended with a flick of a switch and the survivors were all rescued and returned home, everyone in the Camp had revered him as a hero. Men - soldiers and civilians alike - and even young boys (who hadn't had a speck of facial hair yet) all looked up to him with guns on their hands with the same vision of living valiantly and strong to protect their loved ones. Hero? He scoffed at the idea; the term man slaughterer would be more believable. He was not a hero. He could not have done everything without his friends. And at the end of the day, he could not even save the very person he truly valued. He felt the emptiness in that.

Bellamy took in the scene with one, all-inclusive glance, sighed and moved inside the compartment where his mechanic friend lives. He wondered if she was available at the moment, but he brushed off the worry when he heard metal clanking and a voice strained with irritation inside the room.

"You stupid fucking radio! I swear to god if you don't get your shit together," She picked up the transmission with one hand and gripped it with enough force to probably crush it - only it was already in oblivion in the first place. She picked a berry from the basket on the table and popped it in her mouth with her free hand. "I'm going to eat you like this little red thing in my mouth and you're not going to like it."

"That would probably taste great."

Bellamy almost chuckled, a feat of luxury even for him when he saw Raven nearly skyrocketed out of her seat.

"What do you want, champ?" Gathering her composure, Raven asked bemused. Her hands moved back to the piece of junk and tinkered with the loose wires. "Get yourself together, ya piece of crap." She sighed and threw it on the ground.

"Raven," The smile on his face died immediately and now he sounded a bit exasperated. His tough demeanor cracked at the sound of emotion that came out. "It's been months already. We need to get out of there and find her wherever she is ." He paced past the tables (and a bunch of mechanical junk) and stood close to the brunette.

The brunette sighed. They already had this conversation just days prior and she knew her reply would not please her friend still.

"You know Bellamy, I'd like to help you, really," She emphasized the last word and refused to look at the man just a few inches away. "But, the Chancellor has given an order that no one from Camp leaves the site without official permission."

Bellamy leaned his back at the wall. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as the frustration rose up at her words. A lot of things happened after the Coalition with the Grounders broke and their victory against the Mountain Men. The present Chancellor, Abby Griffin had made a consensus that no one from the Ark set out of Camp unless they were going to hunt for provisions. The fear among the Grounders still stuck in their being and the forest served as a grim reminder of the terror. It was their territory. The Sky People, regardless if they were armed to the teeth or not, were blind for combat inside the backwoods where Grounders lurked and blend with the thickets like each trunk and shrubs were a part of their flesh and bones.

They had been wary ever since. The trust between each people had been broken and it was the sole reason why they bunk with their tails between their legs; their wounds only theirs to lick.

What lived in the sky should not meddle with whatever lived in the ground. That was the greatest lesson.

"Have you tried speaking with her?" Raven continued, growing uncomfortable with Bellamy's silence. The tone in her voice had mellowed down a bit, seemingly aware of the apprehension in the room. Clarke, too, had been close to her. Whatever animosity they both had over Finn - until his apparent death had dwindled when the latter risked her life to save them from the Mountain Men. Clarke soaked her hands with the blood of too many and not knowing how that would haunt her for the rest of her life. It wasn't in her image, Raven thought, that she could not believe meeting someone who shone with such glamour, stood proud among the Delinquents with hair as golden as the sun and eyes clearer than the sky could selflessly - and mercilessly - eradicate men and be a splitting image of Death itself. All in the reason to make things right. Ironically, nothing had ever been right when they first landed on the ground.

Raven had every fiber of reason to do something in return - at least bring Clarke back in the Camp in one piece. If she was still alive, that is.

But there was one problem: no one was allowed to leave or sneak out like they would back in the Dropship. The rules had been established. For the past few months, they had lived a life without the burden of war, the burden of having to massacre people for oxygen supply or food. They were liberated to take whatever the Earth can give unlike their chained existence in the Ark and for the first time in what seemed like ages, they had appreciated what it meant to be alive. To be free.

This was their life now and, probably, Clarke, wherever land she could be at the present time had moved on too.

"Not yet. I'm planning to speak with her tonight and throw whatever excuses I can make. Her daughter is still out there in the woods for Christ's sake, fending for herself and I..." The words suddenly died before he could continue. He wasn't sure if anger or disappointment was fueling his urge to speak.

"...I can't wait anymore. I am going out there and find Clarke and rules be damned, I swear to god. I refuse to be caged in this metal prison while one of our friends is out there."

"Bell..." Raven stopped her word for a bit, unsure if she should be saying this. It had been a month since she disappeared after all. "Clarke could be..."

They could be chasing a ghost.

She was rattled when Bellamy slammed the table with both of his fists. His disheveled hair blocked the slight hint of sadness in those dark eyes, but Raven caught it, even for just a second before it got stormed away and the shrewdness returned.

"Look, I need your help to disable the wires so I can get out there without alarming anyone."

"They've reinforced the security after the battle. It could take me hours to disable it."

"But you can do it, right?"

She nodded.

Bellamy started pacing around the room. "I'll go to talk to Abby while you're at it. If she doesn't..."

"Before you get to the point of your speech where you won't give a damn if you get caught and get lashed-" They both heard the door open and Octavia - along with Lincoln - walked in, proud and slightly dirtied. There was a track of blood smeared all over their faces which looked hauntingly pleasing together with their war paint. Back from the hunt, they guessed. "Let me just say right here and now that what you're thinking is not a good idea, big brother."

Bellamy saw Lincoln made a gesture of agreement, but he managed not to say anything. "Well, at least with the Chancellor being really strict with safekeeping and all. Not that it mattered to us since they literally kick us to get out and hunt for food." Octavia finished her words and went towards Raven, who gave her a glass of water with a grin. "I doubt you'd even get past security, Bell, unless you join and be hunters like us."

He thought about that once. Bellamy had been a part of the security ever since. He was always good with a gun and took comfort with it strapped to his waist. He had all the general ideas of fighting - of survival - or even how to defend himself, but hunting in the woods, preying on natural preys; the waking scenario of that mutated panther that attacked them flashed in his mind. Those were different things. He had lost count of how many times he attempted to hunt for food back when they lived in the Dropship, only to go back home nearly tattered and bruised. The hurt had lasted at least a week before he got back to his feet again. There was a difference between simply having a weapon in your hand, ignorant of the right timing to pull the trigger and being trained with the rhythm of a warrior.

His sister, in her own unique case, had seemingly adapted to Grounder culture and had been seasoned as a fighter by both Lincoln and Indra. It was a reasonable decision for the Council to add her to the Scouts which they send outside and into the woods to hunt. She had Grounder blood - figuratively speaking. He had never seen her wild and so liberated. He no longer held her as much as that fact pains him.

"Clarke would probably know what to do in this kind of situation."

They were silent for a moment. Of course. Clarke was always the brain in their quest for survival. She'd go in all kinds of length to save each and every one of them and it was an automatic response for the Delinquents to follow. She was a natural. Bellamy, Raven, Octavia and the 100 respected her. So they know Clarke would brood and blame herself for all the decisions she made. She'd rather die and shoulder the pain than share it to anyone.

"The Council will have a meeting later in the afternoon. You can take your chances and request for Abby after it ends." Raven's voice broke the silence. "I'll ask Wick to help me bypass security. Here," She continued and handed a walkie-talkie to Bellamy. He took it with a firm grip and nodded at this friend, grateful. "I'll let you know when we're done."

Octavia wasn't a hundred percent amused, but her brother could be the only chance they have to bring Clarke back. She had hoped that her friend was well. The woodland was not merciful as they all had deemed it to be.

"Then we will distract the men guarding the post to give you enough time to sneak out if all else fails." Octavia gave Lincoln an all-knowing look and he gestured back with a nod.

The group had agreed to start the operation under Bellamy's order.

But first, and perhaps the greatest challenge is that they need to make Abby understand. They need her to understand that they can bring her daughter back. Alive.

"Are you certain that she is the right person?"

"Yes. This girl is a part of the Skaikru. I've seen her once during the battle against the Maunon. Her presence here could be a value to us."

Clarke woke all at once, as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown at her. She felt her body betray her for a moment, unable to move, limp, and heavy and she groaned at the throbbing pain on her head. She felt her back grounded and well-rested on something soft like ... a bed? Wincing, she shifted her gaze to the soft flame of the candle light beside her but everything was a blur.

She figured she was in a room. But it was not metallic or cube-like the one in the Ark. It smelled like the earth and the calming presence of a hearth. It was a room inside a cave. She should be terrified, but there was an odd comfort of being wrapped in a sheet made of fur that Clarke did not bother to sit up. There was a smoke looming in the room and it made her nostrils flare, but it was somewhat..soothing. Her eyes felt heavy all of a sudden.

"It's okay. You're safe here."

Clarke was quick to respond when she felt a soft hand touched her forehead. She sat up on the bed with a start, her heart thudding in her chest. Danger had always been the greatest whisperer to Clarke like it always hanged on her back and it did not take her a second to raise her gun and aim it towards the person in front of her. Surprised at the sudden shift of movement, there woman sitting beside her raised both her arms. Clarke noticed that there was a basin on her lap with a wet towel, and bottles of medicine placed on the floor. Clarke eyed her with genuine curiosity which garnered a response from the woman with a small smile.

"Your fight is not over yet, Clarke kom Skaikru"

Trigedasleng. Great.

"Who are you? And where am I?"

The voices in the background had stopped once they heard the distressed voice.

"I have been assigned to take care of your wound. Please," She noticed the confused look that flashed across the sky girl's face. "Lower you gun and let me help you." She finished in English and Clarke hummed silently, her gun lowering but her cold stare did not falter.

Sensing the violent intent had subsided, Clarke noticed the woman move her head to the side to pique her interest. When she followed with her eyes, she saw two figures towering above her; their eyes unmoving and appraising like the Dreadmouth she had encountered. They were all armed to the teeth.

Ogon and Echo. Just great.

"You grace us with your presence, you, who everyone now calls 'The Great Destroyer of the Mountain'." Ogon's baritone voice boomed. He looked at Echo, who gave him a nod before she looked at Clarke with both a hint of respect and fear.

"The Commander will be glad to see that you're still alive and intact."

And with that, they heard a gunshot, and Clarke, surprised like all of them stared at her hand with the weapon clutched so tightly around her fingers, aimed particularly at no one. The fume seeped out of the barrel and the Grounders became instantly alarmed, weapons all raised and pointed towards the sky girl who looked at all of them with haunting eyes.

"If she's all glad and shit that I'm alive, then," The gun cocked. The anger once again consuming her. Clarke gritted, "Bring me to her. Bring me to your Commander."

A/N: I am particularly more interested with those beasts in the show (and the relationships of the characters, of course) and I think Season 3 should feature more of them . The Dreadmouth was something that came into mind.

Don't worry. You'll hear about Lexa in the next chapter. I am carefully mapping out how the events will turn out so sit tight, folks.