Chapter 4:

Clarke walked down to the stream she had found yesterday. It was a little ways down a hill from where she camped last night. She had covered her area twice now and saw no signs of beast nor person. No sign of disturbance. If someone or something had been there last night they were surely gone now. A dull calm crashed over Clarke again before she diverted her path towards the stream.

She was almost thankful that whatever it was woke her last night. Thankful it broke her out of her torturous dreams. She shuddered as she remembered the dream. It never changed yet it was always as fresh as the first time she had it. Clarke thought about how calm and dull she felt at this moment. She swallowed as she understood - she felt like death. She felt dead inside.

As she washed and soaked in the foot deep stream Clarke watched as the water ran over her body. She watched as her chest rose and fell, she felt the cool rocks on her ass and legs, the moss of the rocks brushing her feet. When she could finally see the natural colour of her skin again Clarke removed herself from the stream and quickly dried and clothed herself. She sat down to lace her boots. Oddly enough she didn't feel clean. She recalled the wash bin in Lexa's tent after she killed Finn. She remembered scrubbing and scrubbing as the water turned increasingly red, it hadn't made her feel better then either. Her mom was right, she can't wash off all of the blood that's on her hands. "Victory stands on the back of sacrifice" Lexa's own words filled her head and Clarke lost herself in her thoughts all over again.

Clarke remained on the bank of the stream for sometime. Only when her stomach growled in protest of lack of food did Clarke stir from her thoughts. Slowly she gathered her things, finally her dagger and headed back to her camp. After packing up her gear, Clarke checked her two snares. The first was empty. Figures Clarke thought bitterly as she picked up the trap and moved on to her next one. This one was pulled tight, she could see a rabbit hopping in every direction trying to find its escape.

Clarke stopped moving. She slowly removed the dagger from her belt. Silently she poised herself, trained her eye on the hopping rabbit and flipped the dagger to its tip in her fingers. She pinched the cool metal between her thumb and finger gripping tight. She arched her back and took her shot.

THUD

The dagger missed its mark. "Fuck." Clarke whispered, slightly disappointed. Slowly she walked to the dagger, ignoring the rabbit and headed back to where she originally threw. She had nailed rabbits like this from a distance of about 7ft she estimated, she wanted to be able to do more. Her thoughts slipped back to Lexa flinging her own dagger into Quints arm saving Clarke's life. She had to be at 20 feet or more and nailed her mark. Clarke pushed the thought of Lexa out of her mind and gritted her teeth. Anger bubbling up again just at the thought of her. Clarke dove into her dagger throwing, again and agin she tried and missed her mark. Frustration mixing with anger Clarke remained unbowed she would nail this little fucker.

Again and again she threw the knife. Again and again missing its mark. Curse words were flying from Clarke now, she was so worked up. She let out a hollowed, blood curdling scream in her anger and frustration and rifled the dagger towards the hopping rabbit.

The hopping stopped.

Clarke's eyes widened as she took in the sight. She sucked in a shaky breath trying to ground herself again, but before she could she was crying. She was now kneeling over the rabbit with her dagger in its side and bawling. She couldn't control her tears, she didn't want to. She took another life. She caused another death.

"yu gonplei ste odon" Clarke whispered as she loosened the snare and removed the dagger. Her tears now silent.

When the sun was starting to lower Clarke, was still walking. Her pack on her back, the rabbit slung in a pouch and her dagger on her hip. She found a spot to set up her camp right before night fell. She started her fire and began cleaning and preparing her rabbit. Her stomach's growls were too persistent now, too loud to ignore.

When she was finished Clarke sat back against a tree trunk and drove her dagger into the earth beside her. She watched the flames dance as her hand slowly grabbed the hilt of her dagger and sleep overtook her.

Clarke woke in a panic, her dagger up ready to attack or defend. She struggled to catch her breath, to bring it back to a normal pace as she took in her surroundings. Her fire was dim, but she saw or heard nothing. Her dreams woke her. No one was there. She shook her head, you're alone Clarke she told herself.

Standing to stretch out her aching muscles, Clarke circled her camp a few times just to safe. She put another log on the fire, added a second one and when the fire was blazing and the light was keeping her fears at bay Clarke began practicing with her dagger.

She moved fluidly, striking the air, spinning and manoeuvring herself into different positions. The movements were therapy, it was muscle memory, she had been doing it for 3 months. Whenever sleep evaded her. It made her feel stronger, it made her feel safe, it made her feel less afraid.

When her muscles were screaming Clarke resigned herself to practising her throws. She flung the blade time and time again into a tree. Over and over again trying to hit the same mark. She continued through until morning when finally gasping for air Clarke flung the dagger a final time. There were multiple holes in the tree from the dagger, many of those holes told Clarke she hit her mark a lot. She looked back at where she was throwing and realized that was easily a 15foot distance.

A small smile crossed Clarke's lips, she was getting better.

There was a very dim light in the forest now, slight whispers of shadows danced with the movement of the wind through the trees. A floral scent filled the air erasing the damp smell from Clarke's nose. The scent was oddly familiar, calming and yet exciting. Clarke shook her head slightly, as she stared through the trees. She thought she saw movement? A person? Just a shadow? The trees maybe? An animal? She froze on her spot and continued to stare to where she thought she saw the movement.