Not All Who Wander Are Lost

[Amuna]

Golden sand shifted beneath her feet but Amuna's pace did not change. She walked with the sure-footed gait of someone born on the sands. She might as well have been, chucked far from the hard packed dirt of her family village into the shifting, burning sands. The sun continued to down on her head and she readjusted the shawl draped over her head and wrapped around her face. Pulling it free she lifted her waterskin to her lips to take a sip before returning the shawl to it's place covering her mouth and nose.

The Dead Zone was a cruel place for anyone and Amuna was used to not spying anyone in the distance for days, even weeks at a time. She tended to avoid the more populated portions, but she was running out of water and knew of a small oasis closer to the border between the Dead Zone and the living zone.

She stopped when she spotted a figure in the distance. Shielding her eyes with one hand and gripping a dagger with the other, she hoped that it was not part of one of the bandits that scoured the desert. If it was, she hoped that he was alone because there was no way she could fend off more than one at once.

Taking her chances she continued in the direction she was going, knowing too well that he would notice her. Her need for water was too great for a detour to avoid someone who could very well not be a danger to her well-being.

Still, she kept her hand on the hilt of her small blade just in case.

---

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Amuna

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy didn't stop walking. He couldn't. He was completely fixated on the task at hand, needing something -- anything -- to focus his entire attention on. And right now, it was protecting the people. While the ones he was currently looking for didn't consist of the delinquents -- apart from Murphy -- he still felt the role of the protector. Perhaps he was still trying to prove that he could be. Ever since Mount Weather, he had felt the weight of his actions.

The burden. He was alone in facing them -- as the one person he thought would be at his side, had left. So when it has informed that not everyone who had tried to come back with Sinclair, had, then Bellamy wanted to set out to find them immediately. Some had veered off with Jaha, but the others had wanted to return with Sinclair to help them. And those were the people who were currently missing. Those were the ones who needed to be found.

He had left with a group but he was now by himself. They had wanted to stop to make camp and Bellamy had agreed only to appease them. By the morning, he was gone. He was well aware that his current state of mind wasn't the most rational. He was determined, but he was also broken. Haunted by the images of those he had killed to save his people. So no. He couldn't stop. He was desperate to find them, as if what was left of his soul was dependent on it. He had walked past the woods to reach an area of sand, a lot of sand.

The damn desert. Bellamy paused, feeling the heat of it but still refused to stop. He would need to find a water source soon but that was secondary. He saw a figure in the not so far distance and approached her. Perhaps she would know. Grounders though. His trust for them were quite shaky -- though he supposed it was one in particular that he had most of the issue with. When she was close enough to talk to, he spoke. "Where is the nearest water source?" He questioned, his tone practically emotionless. He skipped any pleasantries, though didn't have a strong demand in his voice. It was just a question. One that she would either answer or not. He was prepared for either outcome.

[Amuna]

The stranger was alone and his clothing was strange. It was not Sankru clothing and that allowed Amuna to relax a margin. She thought that he might be from outside the Dead Zone although she had no idea why he would come into the desert. There was hardly anything within the Dead Zone worth risking the sun and the sands for. 

"Not far," She spoke softly as her freehand went up to her shawl to ensure it was covering her mouth. Outsider or not she was wary of letting any of her deformities show. The man sounded off. Flat, even. She wondered if this was how he always sounded or if there was some factor she could not see that flattened his tone. She also wondered what he was doing alone. Few travelled alone. Not with the scale-beasts roaming the sands. Mentally shaking herself, Amuna told herself that his reasons and story did not matter. He would come and go like all the others so knowing the details about him was a waste of time.

"Water sources are rare." The woman kept walking, having no intention of stopping. Not quite going in the direction he had come from, but towards his right. If he followed, he followed. If not, well, then she hoped that he did not desperately need water because the next closest source would take days to get to - if no sandstorms cropped up. "There's an oasis near here. Clean water, but occasionally scale-beasts are there. Feel free to follow, if you're inclined. My waterskin is running low."

---

Tag:Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Amuna

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy had to admit that he was surprised that her tone wasn't overly hostile or rejecting of his question. In fact, it was the exact opposite. She provided him with an answer, and even an invitation for him to join her, speaking of an Oasis that was not far. And warning him that there were creatures there. He began to move in the same direction as she did, moving his step so that he was walking alongside her rather than behind. "How far would you say?" He asked, trying to judge the time since it wasn't a luxury he had. At the same time, water was needed if he was expected to continue on this journey. A few of the Arkers were still missing and he needed to be in good shape to carry on the search for them. And apparently to fight off these scale beasts that she spoke of.

"No more of your people will be accompanying you?" He asked. Just because her attitude toward him was civilized, didn't mean he expected her other people's to be the same. While the tensions between Arkers and Grounders were somewhat at ease . . . Bellamy could never be too careful. Besides, he didn't know a great deal about the Grounders that dwelled in the desert. His eyes quickly looked over her, wondering if the veil was part of her cultural clothing, or if there was another reason. He dared say that she was almost trying to hide her face . . . but then again, Bellamy didn't know anything about her. Nor was he going to be too forward as to ask, especially since she was doing him a favor by not only telling, but showing him where the water source was.

[Amuna]

"Less than a day's journey," She answered as she glanced towards him. Amuna was not sure how he may measure distance. Her adoptive mothered used to measure with water - the distance travelled between sips of water. It was probably a method adopted to help teach two young kids to ration water. Amuna eventually began measuring by days and nights when she abandoned drinking on a regular basis.

She paused and glanced up at the sky, measuring the time by the sun. Her shawl shifted from her face a bit, catching on her horns and not falling off. "We should get there while the sun is still high, but there probably won't be enough time to get to any other landmark afterwards."

"I have no people." She fixed her shawl and caried on. His question made her grimace from behind the breezy fabric shielding her face. He was definitely not from the DeadZone. Part of her was tempted to explain truth of what she was, of the stain on her family bloodline, but she could not. This was someone who knew little enough about the Sankru to not know that nomads were typically mutated exiles. "Where's yours?"

---

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Amuna

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Less than a day's journey. It was long, but he needed it. He couldn't afford to not have water on him. He had to be strong if he was going to find the missing Arkers. He had to admit he continued to be surprised by her kindness. He didn't know much about this group of Grounders, but he knew not to expect anything less than initial hostility. Yet, she seemed quite accepting and welcoming of his company. "Thank you," he said, his voice stoic but it held sincerity to it, for he was genuinely grateful for her aid. He didn't know these lands, and so with every step he took, he was trying to orientate himself. Yet she clearly knew where she was going. She evidently lived here, but at the same time, she spoke of how she had no people.

He looked at her for a moment, intrigue flickered in his eyes as he wondered why. She was nomadic then. But . . . why? What was the reason? Weren't these Grounders of a collectivist culture? Didn't they function as a unit; as a community. She returned the question onto him, inquiring about his people. "Far from here," he told her truthfully. "Some of them are missing. Which brought me here." He paused for a moment, deciding he may as well ask. "You haven't seen others like me, have you?" He questioned, assuming she understood for it was quite easy to pick out the Arkers from the Grounders. It was worth a shot to at least ask her though. No harm could come of it . . . he hoped.

[Amuna]

"You're welcome." Amuna might have smiled at him, but it was impossible to tell with the cloth covering her face. The cloth covering her face was something that she missed being able to take off in front of others. Her adoptive family were the only ones who got to see her without the cloth and she had found a comfort in not having to hide herself.

But the shawl was easier to deal with than having to watch the way she spoke to keep her tongue from being seen. It certainly was easier than having to deal with the reaction others had when they saw what the shawl hid.

"They must be important to you for you to risk the Deadzone for them." She gave no immediate reply to his question. Amuna tended to avoid getting too close for other people so her automatic question would have been negative. Yet she gave it a moment of consideration, shifting through her memories to make sure she had not seen someone like him even in the distance.

She vaguely remembered seeing a small group that dressed similar to him. Maybe they were his people. "Maybe. I wasn't close enough to get a good look."

---

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Amuna

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She pointed out that the people must be important, for him to risk this. They were. They are. For a long time, Bellamy had lived only for his family; dedicated his life to protecting them. He had failed -- at least failed his mother which was a strong enough failure. So when he had decided to protect the 100, every single one that they lost . . . he felt responsible for. Their numbers had dwindled drastically, especially after the war with the Grounders, but that would not stop him from doing what he could for the ones that were still alive.

"They are," he said confidently, no ounce of doubt or uncertainty in his voice. She answered his question, saying that she hadn't been close enough to see. The Arkers were significantly different in appearance than her own people . . . so he wondered just how isolated she was. "What about your people?" He just decided to ask. If he offended her, well, he'd deal with it should that be the case -- as he still needed to get to the water source. "I thought you all were close knit. Somewhat protective of your own." He tried to refrain from any sarcasm in his voice, for there was that bitter resentment over what Lexa had done in effort to 'protect her people' and dismissing everyone and everything else -- including her honor.

[Amuna]

The idea that someone would risk their life in the Dead Zone was not exactly a new concept for her. It was merely something that she saw rarely and always from a distance. The closest experience she had to it was with her adoptive family, but she never doubted that her adoptive mother would never risk herself for Amuna if it put her son at risk.

It was strange but admirable to see at any rate.

"The Sankru are protective of their own, but they're not my people." She had mentioned that she had no people before but clearly he had not connected the dots. Avoiding it now was near impossible so she bit the proverbial bullet and stopped to pull off her shawl. The removal only revealed two of her mutations - the horns and allowed glimpses of her forked tongue when she spoke.

Amuna averted her eyes and counted in her head. Ten long seconds passed before she laid the shawl back over her hair to hide the horns again. "I am a stain, so I'm as good as dead to them. I have no people."

---

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Amuna

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Sankru. Bellamy was going to assume that it was what it sounded like; people of the sand. Or well, desert. She dressed as one would, and yet claimed that they were not her people. He was curious enough to ask, yet stopped himself from prying. Fortunately, he wouldn't have to. When she stopped, he did too -- despite his urgency to get there. The intrigue he felt was enough to cease his movements as he turned to look at her when she began to remove the shawl. He slightly tilted his chin upward, entirely unphazed by the revelation.

The horns, the tongue, all were noticeable now that Bellamy would not even have considered to be possible. He had never seen anyone like that. It was a mutation no doubt, but his limited exposure to others on Earth -- and then having spent majority of his time on the Ark -- prevented him from seeing anyone like this. Was it the radiation that was a cause? He just continued to look at her, stoic, his face expressionless or perhaps guarded as the more accurate statement.

Unaffected. She covered herself back up and spoke of how she was a stain. That she was as good as dead. That she had no people. Bellamy could relate -- to a certain extent. Why? Because he too came from a culture that rejected others for their mere existence. Octavia. She had been punished for being born. Her whole life, she was a prisoner to the Ark's laws. "People like that aren't worth having." To be punished for being born. Now that was something he could understand.

"People who woud reject you just for existing. Punish you for being born." He turned his head to look at her, so that she would know he wasn't just saying this to make her feel better. It came from actual experience . . . from being part of a people who did the same thing, though for different reasons. For them, it had been about survival. For the Grounders . . . well, Bellamy didn't know what the hell the reason was. "You aren't a stain." Just like Octavia wasn't a disposable life. "You're a survivor. " A fighter. Anyone who was forced to be without the same luxuries and privileges as others were strong from it. "Just like the rest of us." But they had it more difficult, Bellamy knew that. But it just made it seem ridiculous to act as if she was such an abomination, when she was no less human than everyone else.

[Amuna]

"I'm well aware that they're not worth having." Her fingers dug into the fabric of her shawl, catching on the loose threads. After a moment she released it and dropped her hand to her side. It was her security blanket, of sorts, and something that rarely was removed. Few had seen her without it. "No one who abandons a baby in the sand to die is worth having."

She did not know how to respond to his reaction. His face had not changed from its guarded expression devoid of anything that hinted towards disgust or prejudiced hatred that she was used to seeing from the few who saw her without her shawl. It was unsettling. He truly seemed to be entirely unphased by the sight of her mutations.

"Try telling that to those who gave birth to me." There as the underlying heat of bitterness in her voice. The woman who had rescued her had pointed out the settlement that had abandoned her, but neither of them had any way of knowing who within were her parents. It just tempted Amuna to set fire to very last tent.

"I survive because I have to, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm a stain." No Grounder village would accept her within their territory. Some may tolerate her passing through and may be willing to barter and accept her valuables, but none were welcoming. "It's tactics. I'm tainted and they can't risk that spreading along the bloodlines and ruining future generations. It's nothing personal."

But it was personal, at least to her, but it was a part of life that she could not change.

---

Tag: Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Amuna

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He could easily detect her bitterness based on the mere context of her words. The way she said them, the meaning of them . . . and it was understandable for someone to be so bitter at a people who condemned them for merely existing. It was how Octavia had felt, toward a culture that rejected her and arresting her just for being born. One that would have even killed her for it. The Grounder finished off by saying that it wasn't personal, and Bellamy almost scoffed in response to that. Wasn't personal? Sure as hell sounded personal. "How is that tactical?" He questioned, his words both rhetorical and yet helda hint of curiosity.

"You're a stain for what, looking different? Deviating from what they consider 'normal'?" It was ridiculous, really. People were people. Humans were humans. Yet in Grounder culture, they were discriminating enough to reject people who just looked different. It was like humanity had regressed centuries back . . . or just not progressed at all on Earth. "Sounds pretty damn personal." Physical appearance shouldn't be a reason to ostracize someone. Did it effect a person's capbilities? Compromise their mental integrity? Bellamy had read all about the history of mankind, killing people who were different based on physicalities, religion, culture, ethnicity, and so on. Seemed like they hadn't learned as much as one would think in the new millenium.

[Amuna]

"We threaten the well-being of the whole." It was something that she had pondered for years. Why throw out a baby? What made her so wrong that no one wanted her save for a woman who would abandon her in a heartbeat if her presence had threatened her son's life. Her adoptive-mother had explained to the best of her ability, but it still grated at Amuna. 

The outsider did not understand. He came from another world, it seemed. One that might have spared her years of suffering, perhaps. 


Not that it changed anything now.

"Not all are stains like me. My... differences are mostly on the surface, though I admit I am a bit more sensitive towards temperature than the average Sankru." Amuna could not bring herself to look at the man. Would she see pity on his face? Disgust towards her or the people who abandoned her? It was not something she dared to find out. What good would it do her? Her fate to wander the desert on an endless journey for a place to belong would not change even if someone pitied her unfortunate circumstances. "Some can not survive without a great deal of care. Some could pass on their differences to children, potentially causing the weakness to spread through generations. It seems cruel, and it is, but it's their way of ensuring the survival of their people." 

Yes, she was bitter about it, but she had long since stopped taking it personally. While she did not like what the Sankru did, she at least understood why they did it. Sort of.

---

Tag: Bellamy Blake