The Cost of Abuse

[Savannah]

DON'T UNDERESTIMATE THE LIONESS
SHE HUNTS AND SHE NURTURES; SHE IS THE HEART OF THE PRIDE
TAGGED Bellamy Blake	It was humid, as it always was in Yujleda territory. Only a mile from Arlest, Savannah and a group of four others decided to leave for a hunt. The days had been long, the seas filled to the brim with fish while their home had gone without conflict for so long... it wasn’t uncommon for hunting parties to take advantage of such times. Savannah was looking forward to leaving her home... She never did well staying in one place too long. If you ignored the flies, being outdoors in the thick of the trees and flora was actually rather relaxing. At least, it was at first. “Hod op! Sis au disha hef!” the call for help wasn’t far. Only a few yards... Savannah made her way over, assuming she would find a straggler from Arlest or a neighbouring village, but instead there was a stranger with a dark blue jacket and dust stained skin. His hair was matted while sweat and sand was caked onto his skin. He wasn’t Yujleda, but he wasn’t from any neighbouring clans either. 500 miles north, Skaikru was situated. They’d never seen them this far... The man who called for help pulled out a knife, as if noticing this the same moment that Savannah did. “Hod op,” she hissed as she grabbed his wrist. The man was barely alive. She wouldn’t let him be executed when he couldn’t even stand. “Put your blade away. We have no quarrel with him.” Or any Skaikru in her silent opinion. She knew she wasn’t the only one who felt that way. They destroyed the mountain. It was their late Heda who turned away from the alliance; not Yujleda and not Skaikru. She leaned down and pushed his hair back enough to check his eyes for any response. As she pulled back the lid the pupils narrowed immediately. He was responsive—probably awake without energy. She shifted him; rolling him onto his back so that she could pull him up by the torso and drag him towards a tree to rest against. She had help from those she had come with... but they were silent with worry. Slowly she pressed the lip of her waterskin against his lips, hoping that it would stir him. He’d come far... she wasn’t sure why, but there wasn’t a lot of fresh water outside of the garden ponds, and those were farther south. “Drink, you need to drink...” she murmured some as she supported his jaw enough so that he wouldn’t fold in on himself. “Go back to Arlest; get a horse and a cart,” she said in a rushed tone. She’d bring him back—until he was able to walk again at least. She didn’t know what on earth Skaikru was doing so far from their camp.

pyxis ★

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Savannah

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy was tired. That was perhaps the best way to put it. Not only tired of his failures, but tired of being reminded of them. Of seeking the others he most cared about, look at him like he was a villain. Like he was a monster. It was true perhaps, but his heart could no longer bare it. Pike was dead, and his death had been . . . expected. As Clarke had said, he had it coming. So where did that leave Bellamy? Would he have it coming too? Would they continue to condemn him for his actions, meant to protect the others? Blame him for Lincoln's death? For so many lives lost? He couldn't take it any longer, and knew that there was only one thing he could do: rid the others of the burden of his existance. So he fled. He finally left Arkadia, unsure whether he would return.

Perhaps the mission itself was one that begged for death. Wanting the elements to claim his life. But he stayed alive. Walking further and further. Had he truly wished for death, he could have gone straight into Azgeda territory. But instead, he traveled through unknown terrains. It wasn't long until he encountered a small group of Grounders. He knew he was quickly recognized as Skaikru due to his attire, but he no longer cared. Exhaustion, lack of food and water was taking its toll. It had all started with his weakened mental state of mind . . . and it worsened at a rapid pace with each step he took away from the place he felt was his home. Or well, used to be. He eventually collapsed onto the ground, partly hoping they would leave him for dead. Voices in the distant calling out, but his mind wasn't coherent enough to use what strength he had to translate the words into English.

He had learned some Trigedasleng from Lincoln and Octavia . . . but right now, he couldn't be bothered. He felt himself slipping into a state of unconsciousness . . . until he felt something. Or, someone. Something said in English . . . a blade told to be put away. He couldn't open his eyes though, not until the presence forced them open. He wasn't looking . . . he didn't feel anything. Numbed by the pain of all lost relationships. Those he considered friend, family, gone. They said that home was where the heart it and perhaps that was true. In which case . . . he left his heart at Arkadia and was now a hollow man.

The touch of liquid started to ease him back into the conscious world, as he attempted to open his eyes, seeing a blurred figure. He didn't want the water, but his body was uncaring about his wants. For his lips parted and he swallowed it. One intended small sip turning into heavy gulps. "No," he protested, piecing her words together. His voice was more deep than usual, groggy. "Leave me," he told her, turning his head away from her. He felt broken and . . . despite his feelings toward Grounders, even he knew that this was a waste of her time and energy. He didn't deserve to be saved. Something made abundantly clear by those he loved most. He was just tired of fighting. Tired of surviving. Tired of breathing. And tired . . . of hurting.

[Savannah]

DON'T UNDERESTIMATE THE LIONESS
SHE HUNTS AND SHE NURTURES; SHE IS THE HEART OF THE PRIDE
TAGGED Bellamy Blake	His words made Savannah's chest tighten; whatever circumstances drove him here left him without will to live. If it was death he wanted, suicide would have been much easier. It would have been quicker and more merciful than travelling so far, but judging by his reluctance to accept aid she didn't believe he felt he deserved mercy. His will to die wasn't what pained her, but instead his protests against aid. One who didn't deserve mercy certainly didn't deserve a strangers help. "Would your people leave you to die?" she asked somewhat rhetorically as she gestured for one of the men to bring a leather sled meant for dragging large prey over terrain. It wasn't a cart, but with it they would sooner have the Skaikru man back to the village. "I wouldn't leave one of my people-- even if they begged me to." she never did; not even in the thickest of fights. "If you wanted to die like this; you walked in the wrong direction." Despite the coalition, she knew the ferocity of the northern clans. Though Yujleda was fearless in battle, she was proud that her clan allowed her to avoid killing those who could not defend themselves. There was no honor in that. Some didn't care much for honor at all and would kill Skaikru for simply stepping into their territory. Even some from Yujleda would do such a thing... Not when she was around though. "I'd say don't fight us but... such a thing takes energy that you don't seem to have." she wasn't smug by any means, but the small smirk was still there. Carefully she pulled him onto the sled and pulled a tight belt over his chest to secure him. "What are you called?" she asked as she tightened the belt. "My name is Savannah... We are the Broadleaf Clan. You're very far from home..." She wondered if he had been searching for the desert... A place to die in. "Why have you come all this way?" She walked beside him and looped the waterskin around his neck, hanging by a thin rope for when he needed it.

pyxis ★