Being a Grounder

[Clarke Griffin]

@etain

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Clarke had no idea how long she had been walking already. She had long since given up her clothing and replaced it with whatever she found – occasionally she had come across ruins of the old society, houses and what not. Since the people there were most obviously dead, she took whatever clothing she needed to stay warm enough through the ever colder days and nights. It was nearing winter. Clarke was no expert in weather, climate and what not, but she felt it. She felt it in the air around her in the way things grew colder and she needed more clothing to keep her warm. One day Clarke came across a mirror in one of the houses. She didn’t know the girl in the mirror anymore. The girl looked more like a grounder than an Arker. Maybe she was that now. She had the moral compass of a grounder maybe.

But with that realization came an idea: Grounders. If she went to them she might survive the winder. There was no way she could go back to her people. And so Clarke started to collect more herbs and to braid her hair. The next time she came across the village of Grounders, she did not turn away to hide again. She decided to take her chances. Clarke had her story – it was as close to the truth as possible. She dared to approach the village slowly in the evening. The leader of it allowed her to stay. Since she said she could heal people, she got accepted. Clarke moved into a small cabin just outside of the village. It had enough land and a little river for her to attempt to care for herself. Everything else she would need, could be traded with the village as she helped as a healer. Clarke had been living just outside the village for three days now when she dared to join a few others at the bonfire they had, together with a blanket to keep her warm. She had no intention of talking too much. She just wanted to join them right now. She saw next to a woman. “Hope you don’t mind.”

[Deleted]

Etain was tasked with guarding a village. Of course not by herself, but with the others she was under the guidance of. She still had much to learn, and hated that . . . but she couldn't deny or argue the truth. She'd had a late start and she didn't particularily like to mingle with the others. What did she even say to them? She hardly knew any of them. Speaking of which, an unfamiliar woman came and sat next to her. Etain did not turn her head toward the stranger to make eye contact. She just stared intently at the fire before them, the talking and socializing of those surrounding the area filling the air. Etain felt she preferred silence as oppose to this. The woman spoke. English. A language that Etain was not particuarly fluent in. She could make sentences, but they were often fragmented. She didn't want to embarass herself, and wished she didn't care how others perceived it. But damn it, she did. Swallowing, she continued to avoid eye contact but responded to the woman in their native tongue.

"I do not. I have no authority here. She was a warrior, but not anyone in a position of authority. She did not own or command the village. She was not even a second. She hoped to be one day, but for now, she only cared about enhancing her skills, including linguistic ones. Finally, she turned to look at who sat next to her. She eyed her, judgment in her eyes even though she wasn't judging her for anything at all. "If you have come to socialize, you might want to seek out someone who will make for better conversation." Her words were blunt, borderline rude. But Etain did not do well with others. And she would never admit that she really did want to learn how to better speak to them. But such an admittance was not easy. She had some pride after all.

[Clarke Griffin]

“You have authority over who sits next to you.” Clarke began. At least in her mind. She was offering her the authority, it was up to this grounder to take it or now. Since she already said she didn’t mind, Clarke sat down, facing the fire. It reminded her of the big bonfire at the drop ship, back when life was easier, back when all they had to worry about was survival, not a war, not around a thousand people killed at her hands. It was a short reminder, before the others words ripped her back to the bitter reality of her deeds and the consequences in either culture found in the parts of earth she knew so far. In all cultures known to her, she had a reputation she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. 

“I haven’t come to socialize.” She answered, almost softly. How was she meant to socialize when half the people around them, maybe even the other Grounder, thought she killed so many people – the numbers kept clearly rising in tales and there was nothing she could do to stop it. That was just how oral tradition of tales worked; things got exaggerated and took up a life of their own. There was nothing she could do to stop it, so she just lived with it. It wasn’t like she had another choice. “If I spoke to someone, it would end up in weird admiration of how many people I killed. I just want to sit here and enjoy the fire and the noise.”

@etain