Treska was a woman of few words. She always had been, or at least as long as she could really remember. The reason why, though, was simple. Most of her time was spent in silence, was spent watching the world go by without being noticed. And she liked it. She liked the quiet, the gentle sounds of the forest as it lived and breathed around her. But most of all she liked the isolation. If only because it meant she was doing her job well.

Treska sat perched high up in a mighty tree, her eyes slowly tracking every little bit of movement on the forest floor so very far below. She was one of a select few Trikru warriors who called Ton DC home who were tasked with being the eyes and ears of her people so deep into the Mountain's territory.

Of course all Trikru warriors were at home in the trees, but not all of them would be given the responsibility or even have the ability of getting as close to the Mountain as she could.

She'd already tracked three roaming reaper parties as they had so very loudly stalked through the forest below her, she had even got close enough to make detailed drawings of a few of them in the hopes of giving someone back at Ton DC some closure as to the fate of a loved one.

It was with that thought that she found herself looking out through a break in the tree that kept her invisible to the world. The tree she currently occupied gave her an almost perfect view of a clearing an arrow's shot away that was currently occupied by a camp of those new Mountain Men who had fallen from the sky. Amongst them she could see the ever familiar oddly clad Mountain Men who needed the desecrated blood of her Commander to survive.

To be perfectly honest she had been a little surprised that she was able to get as close as she could to the camp. The first night she had hardly slept, each little sound startling her awake as her grip tightened on her knife. But each sound had simply been the nighttime lives of the animals that flitted about underfoot.

It gave her some measure of comfort when a familiar birdsong would echo out quietly around her with each rising and setting of the sun, too. It told her that the two other scouts were still undiscovered and as safe as anyone could expect given their circumstances.

But the subtle crunch below pulled her attention from the campsite and down to the forest floor below. It only took her a moment to find what had broken the quiet around her. Two Mountain Men were somewhat hidden amongst a large grouping of bushes, one knelt down on their knees, the other standing and looking out to the forest in a sad attempt at keeping watch.

She'd be a fool to deny the fact that their camouflage wasn't at least somewhat effective— it had taken her a second to see their position. Both figures were covered in the earthy patterned fabric and loose branches and greens that had been collected from the forest floor, the foliage an attempt to make their silhouette less noticeable, the patterns an attempt to blend into the forest. But still, it was a poor attempt at camouflage; simply being discovered was failure in and of itself. Even a second would have hidden themselves better than the Mountain Men had.

Treska pushed those thoughts aside as she took note of what the Mountain Men did. The one kneeling continued to dig around at the undergrowth until they unearthed a small metal box. That caused an eyebrow to raise, not because she didn't know what it was, but because it told her that the Mountain Men were becoming more brazen.

She didn't know who had made the first discovery, and she didn't know who had had the foresight to not remove them, but it had proven to be a vital piece of intelligence her people could harness.

Within that small metal container were vials of natblida that the Mountain Men used to keep themselves alive. Scouts years ago had realised that the containers were used as emergency supplies for when the Mountain Men planned to stay out longer than usual. It was also a way for the scouts to make note of where the Mountain Men thought their territory was safely extended.

So scouts never disturbed the supplies for it gave them far more information than what they would gain by denying the Mountain Men its contents.

Treska watched as the Mountain Men injected themselves with the vials before carefully hiding the container back amongst the undergrowth before they began the short walk back to the clearing and the camp.

And so Treska settled back more comfortably against the tree she was perched within, she pulled out her small note book and she took note of exactly where the contents were hidden. And she'd wait. She'd wait and watch and study those that moved about for she had all the time in the world.

But those she watched? They had only as much time left as Heda saw fit and Treska hoped it would be sooner rather than later.

Clarke sat reclined in an old wooden chair. Sunlight streamed through a crack in the shuttered blinds and she found herself thinking over the last few hours, days, perhaps even weeks. The room she occupied was one of many small rooms dotted throughout Ton DC, their purpose as simple as merely being a place for a weary traveller to rest for a moment, or as vital as a quick safe house for any to rush into should the acid fog come rolling through the village. Clarke could hear some of her warriors moving about outside, some in quiet chatter, others more boisterous as they moved through the village.

She had a lot to think over, so many different scenarios that needed to be settled and moved, plans changed and adapted to each potential outcome. Intrigue had long since taken hold of her mind at the opportunities that now presented themselves to her, each one so very centrally revolving around Lexa and what her presence might mean for the coming war with the Mountain.

It was true that Clarke had been toying with her, had been trying to put her on the back foot in an attempt to throw her off, in an attempt to see who she truly was. And though her actions did truly serve a greater purpose, she couldn't deny that she found herself enjoying the moments, the reactions and the all too uncommon feeling of someone who didn't quite treat her like all others.

The sound of Maya sighing broke into Clarke's thoughts and made her look away from the sliver of the outside world. Maya sat in her own chair, arms folded across her chest and her legs sprawled out in front of her.

It was hard for Clarke to divorce the things she hated with who Maya was, even after all the times Maya had helped her, even after all the times Maya had risked her own life since becoming something between friend and foe.

And that was why Clarke now found herself reorganising every single battle plan and contingency she had made in the past few years. Because she now had two secret weapons to use against a foe that had bled her people dry for far too long.

"Heda?"

Clarke blinked once, twice, almost a third time before her vision focused on Maya who was looking at her, eyes carefully guarded lest she somehow break the quiet.

"What do you think of Lexa?" it was a simple question, one she didn't think she needed answered, but she knew it always important to question, to seek answers where normally she might ignore, if only to make sure she had thought of everything that could be thought of.

Maya seemed to mull over her answer carefully. Clarke didn't think it was because the woman feared any repercussion, not exactly at least, but she seemed to be forming an answer as complex as she could muster. But perhaps not for her answer was simple.

"She will help us," Maya said and Clarke watched her nod to herself before she shifted in her chair, perhaps to get more comfortable, perhaps in a subconscious attempt to shy away from the stare Clarke had pinned her with.

Clarke was silent for her own long moment as she considered what she wanted to say next. Something she hadn't considered before came to mind then and so she discarded whatever else it was she had been thinking of.

"What will you do when the Mountain is gone?"

Clarke could tell her question surprised Maya, and as she studied the other woman's face she realised that perhaps Maya hadn't really thought beyond the present.

"I—" Maya appeared to stop herself as if to make sure her answer was the one she wanted to give. "I hadn't thought that far ahead, Heda," Maya said.

Clarke found an eyebrow raising, the motion involuntary as she let Maya's words settle. But she knew there was more to Maya's answer.

"You did not expect to live past the Mountain's fall," it was more statement than anything else. But Clarke knew it true when Maya startled just enough at her statement.

"No, Heda," and this time Maya shook her head as if to clear whatever thoughts threatened to darken her mind. "I never thought about what I would do after the Mountain's fall," Maya continued. "But I guess I didn't think I'd live long to make any concrete plans."

Clarke wasn't a fool. She knew Maya feared her just as much as she didn't. Clarke knew Maya was smart, intelligent enough to know her life was in Clarke's hands, that she wouldn't be discarded or killed until she had no other purpose. And Clarke liked that. She liked that Maya's singular purpose was so easy for her to see.

"Perhaps these Skaikru will give you a place to stay once the Mountain has fallen," Clarke said after a moment.

"Maybe," and Maya shrugged, the motion just a little full of hope than Clarke would have expected.

It was a revelation that wasn't so sudden, perhaps not really even a surprise, but Clarke found herself slowly realising exactly why Maya was as reticent as she was.

"You worry about not being given my blood after the Mountain's fall."

That statement made Maya look her in the eyes directly, and Clarke knew she had come to the right conclusion from the way Maya's lips twitched up at the corners in something close to a forced smile.

"I don't have many other options, Heda," Maya said. And it was simple, her words carried a finality that told her Maya had considered that very fact far more than she let on. But the next thing Maya said made Clarke think. It made her consider that what she might do in the coming days would need a little more nuance than she had anticipated. "I wouldn't blame you if you stopped letting me live."

Not for the first time Lexa wasn't entirely sure what to make of the situation she found herself and Bellamy in. Ontari walked ahead of them as she lead them through the pathways of Ton DC. People moved past them, some Lexa could tell her warriors, their bodies strapped with furs and leathers, weapons and armour, others perhaps not warriors yet still ever armed.

There was a tension in the way everyone moved about, maybe it was the presence of herself and Bellamy, maybe it was the fact that Clarke was present, and maybe it was because there quite clearly was more happening behind the scenes than was outwardly visible.

Lexa wasn't blind, she wasn't stupid. She knew she had stumbled into the middle of a brewing war. The only thing she needed to do was make sure her people came out of it alive. And yet she knew that simple action would be much easier said than done.

She had understood the things that were left unsaid during and after the meal she had shared with Clarke and her warriors. She knew that her people's survival was predicated on them helping to take down the Mountain and whatever alleged horrors were being done in its depths. And she needed proof. If only for herself, to clear her mind, to make it easier for her to make the calculations.

That had always been her job though, to make calculations, to take something from one person and give it to another for the betterment of her entire people's survival. She thought it ironic that even now she was forced to make those same decisions, to choose who would need to be sacrificed. And though the stakes on the Ark had always been high, she truly believed they had never been as high as they were now that she was on the ground.

Ontari came to a stop then and Lexa's eyes took in the scene unfolding before them. What could be described as a town centre opened up in front of where they stood. Other streets all seemed to converge at this singular spot with buildings all covered in mosses and the greens and browns of the forest. More people moved about openly in this part of Ton DC and Lexa took a moment to appreciate the simple fact that a society had survived and evolved on the ground.

People gathered in small groups, some perhaps friends, others part of the same workgroup. Other gatherings were clearly warriors either preparing to take to the forests or sharing in whatever information had been gathered throughout the day.

Again Lexa saw children amongst the warriors, each one as equally well armed as the adults, some even had their own scars that seemed proudly displayed upon faces, patterns etched deep into flesh that she knew must have been far more painful than she thought herself able to withstand.

"What are we waiting for?" Bellamy's voice whispered quietly and Lexa looked up at him to find his own gaze settled on a group of warriors, some clearly finding their appearance less than satisfactory.

"I don't know," Lexa didn't really think Bellamy expected an answer, but answering his question seemed to kill some of the awkwardness of standing so very out of place from the hustle and bustle of the village.

Ontari didn't seem to care for their discomfort too for she simply leant against the nearest building. Lexa took that moment to actually take in what society must have been like for these people.

The building Ontari leant against must have been a store of some kind. Through an open window she could see shelves full of things she couldn't quite place. Other buildings seemed the same and yet there were some she assumed must have been dwellings of sorts. Perhaps those were taverns or places for all to gather in the cold or the night.

Lexa's gaze moved from the buildings and to the nearest group of warriors. A group of five people gathered about, two adults, one of them older, face weathered to the elements with a tattoo sprawled across his face. The other was a younger woman and her face carried scars similar to what adorned Ontari's. The clothes she wore were the same furs though their colours just a little better suited to the forests.

It was clear to Lexa that there were at least two kinds of people amongst these grounders. Perhaps more. She wondered if there was a reason why Ontari's furs were whiter than that of the other warriors but as Lexa looked over at the woman she thought that the answer unlikely to be given.

Lexa turned her attention back to the group of people and she watched as what appeared like the youngest of the children was seemingly pushed from side to side between her companions, the blows being given a little too violent to be comfortable.

It took Lexa a moment before she could figure out exactly what was different about the youngster compared to the other two but then it dawned on her slowly. The girl's armour had a sheen to it, it seemed stiff to the touch and Lexa could tell it was new, hardly worn and far less weathered than what the other children wore. Each time the girl was shoved back and forth seemed to be with purpose as if to force the leathers to give way, to break up its sheen and to make it just that little bit less obviously new. Lexa's suspicions were confirmed when the older woman stepped in, pushed both other children aside and gripped the girl by two straps, each one looped over her shoulders.

The older woman shook the girl just as violently as the children had been shoving her and Lexa couldn't help but to wince as the girl's hair whipped back and forth with the motion. And yet the girl didn't seem to mind, she even seemed to enjoy it from the smile spread across her face as the woman settled her and eyed the new creases that had been forced into the leathers.

"Seems rough," Bellamy said quietly and Lexa knew he must have been watching the same scene.

"Yeah," and she shrugged. Lexa didn't really know what else to say.

"They are seconds."

That startled both of them and Lexa turned to find Ontari eyeing the same scene, arms crossed and her head tilted to the side as that seemingly ever present half smirk, half sneer lifted the corner of her lips.

"Seconds?"

"Trainees," Ontari said as she lifted her chin in the direction of the children. "This might be the girl's first real scouting mission."

Lexa couldn't help but to wince as she looked back at the girl to find her tucking her hair back into the braids she had clearly spent a long time doing. The girl didn't look much older than ten yet she already had a small bow and quiver of arrows strapped to her back with a sword half her size strapped to her hip.

"You send them out to fight that young?" despite how quiet Bellamy kept his voice Lexa could hear the shock and she knew he must have been thinking of the reapers that they had seen.

Ontari's lips turned from that half smile into a more sinister snarl at his words and Lexa couldn't fight the slight recoil of her body.

"It is an honour to be selected for duty so young," and this time Ontari pushed off from the side of the building. "Every warrior knows their duty," Lexa could tell Ontari wanted to say more from the way her lips began to part but noise drifting across the village centre made the woman's head whip around to face the commotion.

Across the distance Lexa could see a new group of warriors rushing forward, but the newcomers had clearly been involved in fighting for some had splashes of blood across their bodies. One had a bandage wrapped around his head with another warrior helping to support half his weight and on the shoulders of another was wounded warrior, alive or dead Lexa couldn't tell through the distance.

Their appearance lasted only a moment before they disappeared down one of the many pathways that led away from the village centre but Lexa knew that had been the start of something for a number of the warriors who had been gathered and waiting began to move out with their groups.

Lexa took a moment to look back at the nearest group, to the three children and the two adults, and she found herself feeling something close to sadness at the way the youngest girl's face showed no signs of fear, no signs of apprehension.

And it made Lexa wonder just how violently short lives must be on the ground for the girl to be prepared to face death at such a young age.