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Change was all around them. Everything had changed as had they, all of them. She could still see the essence of her friends in them, but it was difficult with some of them, very much so even. Especially with Octavia. Here she was, seeing her as a danger and she was not alone in that assessment, but she couldn't not stop her. Wanheda was no more and she was glad of it. As easy as death was to deal, living with it had only gained ease through the absence of it. And once again she had to deal with it, in a way. This time, though, her outlook had changed, her entire perspective. Maybe it was in part peace that she had gained, but it was very much a perspective, someone to love, someone to protect. Madi. And for her she was locked up. But not for long. 

To her surprise Clarke was allowed to walk out soon enough, Indra looking on on the scene with an ominous expression, that told her that she was not necessarily innocent in letting Clarke walk free. She heard rumors of the red queen having fallen, but she couldn't quite believe it, because who would take her down? Bellamy? He had it in him, but it was Octavia. She was not sure what to think and so she made her was to Bellamy first, not Madi, because if the rumors were true, he was the one it would affect the most. When she found him, she stood in the doorway for a moment, familiar feelings and movements were replayed as she thought back of moments where they sought the other out for support. "Bellamy...what happened? I heard she...she's taken down?"

Things did not come cheap in this world. Everything was created by hand, hunted, grown by hand. Hours upon hours of work went into one thing. From a young age on Clarke learned that everything created by men had a natural price, the price of the labor as well as the price of the resources going into creating the final product. Once a society was reduced to purely manual labor, the prices looked a lot differently than the prices for something created in a mainly digital society. Clarkes own society, while having had to go into some form of regression through the confined spaces, had still been surprisingly digital and automatic. Automated processes created pills, thread and so many other little thing that her people had once come to depend on. Next to nothing of the kind was still accessible to them. They, too, had been thrust into this kind of world now. And so they had to relearn prices. So far every single person in this world had known to put a price on what they offered.

Not here. Here her word was taken. Or was it? With a society that based everything on manual labor and resources, how could a clever leader with no angle to work – as she seemed to want to say herself – able to trade off something on the basis of trust that should not be there, that had no place in a trade like this, because in this world trust was not easily given, but easily betrayed and Clarke was the furthest thing from trustworthy for her people. Her people, who so easily betrayed Clarkes, leaving them to die in Mount Weather, while accidently signing their own death sentence, because ultimately, the Mountain Men would have killed countless more of her people as their solution with the bone marrow was no permanent solution after all. A treatment with bone marrow did not change a patients DNA and the Arkers immunity to radiation lay in their mutated genes, in their adapted genes. It would have worked for one generation that could have lived on the ground and then their children would have died or would have been forced back into the bunker, this time with the Arkers dead and no permanent solution out there again. Their hopes failed and everything around them dead. They also would have probably pushed the end to any hopes of repopulating earth again. Not that they were theoretically close to it, but it was not impossible yet. Maybe a healthier balance than previously could be found, as Clarke had been reading on overpopulation.

The red haired so called commander of death took the bag offered to her, mentally adding a note to it to have the supplies checked by another trading post. People would always name a worth to it and she did need it to much to decline an offer, even as shady as this was. Something surely wasn’t right. Or perhaps they had no intentions of letting her leave from the moment she said she was a healer. By now she learned what kind of people they were. Opportunistic, selfish in so many ways. In a world like this it was not bad, but it did not make for easy alliances. Especially not for Clarke. She was pushed to an edge, knowing herself to be called Wanheda, to be hunted like this mythical creature that could bring mass destruction onto the ground. And the worst part about it was that they were right. It was entirely within the realm of possibilities that she could do that. It was just another question of if she would. Perhaps, she was some kind of angel of death after all, born with a purpose that left ashes in her wake, purging or cleaning this or bringing it to an end. She was nor sure. Who could ever be sure about something like that. All she knew was that she was on her own in this world, chosen by herself and maintained by herself. Everything pointed to this place either being shady or too peaceful to be survivable and so she decided she would not put up any effort in staying. Because why should she? Maybe a night, a day or two, but then she was off. She would fight – and succeed – in leaving, because if she was an angel of death, if she was wanheda, she would be damned to be enclosed against her will by a village, when she brought down a mountain. 

“Thank you. I will seek a place to settle outside. I am a traveler for a reason and I prefer staying outside.” She explained. In truth she did not. In truth it was a necessity to not allow them to lock her in in her sleep, as she was sure was not beyond any grounder clan. Far from it, it was exactly what she expected of them and so she was prepared for something like that. She had to be. This was what ensured her survival. And perhaps it was selfish, but she was not the only one selfish. 

And thus Clarke went to the door to let herself leave. The door opened without a problem, but it was then that she spotted the insects. It was uncommon for them to run in one direction, even less uncommon to see critters follow and not mind the easy prey at all. It seemed like something she had seen before: Acid fog. Except that was disabled by her people. Arkers had made sure, especially Bellamy, Raven and Wick, that the Acid Fog could never again harm anyone in this world. It was not meant to be out there and it would never be used as a weapon, especially not as a weapon of mass destruction as Mount Weather had done. And then the smell hit her, sharp and strong. She had smelled smoke before when their smoke house burned down and after the bombing of TonDC. It left behind the constant memory of that smell, the smoke and whatever followed. 

The sight of a burning horse flashed before her eyes, as she had seen after TonDC, the howling and cries rang in her ears. So many dead. For a moment the red head stood there, frozen to the ground as smoke invaded her nose and her brain froze, flashing back to pictures of terror and pain she had felt before, not too long before. Slowly, only slowly her lips moved. She didn’t need to see what it was. There was no need for any of it as the signs were clear and painfully hard to ignore. Animals ran. Smoke. A fire. A large one. “Fire.” Was all she could bring out, in a low voice as it was not her job to warn any of these people. As she was still frozen in what happened before, in the horrible images she had seen before. 

He was right, of course, they should find shelter first before discussing what they would do, want to do even. Even being lost, in times like these, where she was sure sooner or later Arkadia and Lexa would be looking for them, especially after what she had done. There was blood on her hands, blood she could not wipe off and an accusation against Lexa which might just paint the Commander as weak - as she was. Lexa had not brought down Mount Weather, Clarke did, Clarke and Bellamy together, while Lexa ran, showing how faithful she was to the cause Clarke had given them.

This was not a topic she sought to discuss as she walked with him. His steps were steady, he clearly knew where they were going until a cave opened in front of them. It was large enough to allow them to sleep in it for a while. Maybe... one day they might even have something permanent, somewhere safe. She didn't want to talk about the past, only a rough estimate on where they had to go, because she did not have to tell him what she had done, he knew that intimately, he was there. He had witnessed it from the beginning, and maybe even deeper than anyone else. 

Clarke touched the wall of the cave and sighed. She had started this. In a horrible chain reaction of events, this all fell back to her somehow. One, by one, her decisions brought her there. Maybe she was a monster, a monster best locked away, one of the witchers her mother had spoken to her about, one of those who could only be stopped by themselves. "I think...I want to go far away from here." Somewhere where she could hurt none of her friends.

A soft smile played around Clarkes lips as Leiana reminded her of the first party. It was a nice day, a good party. It was the first time on the ground she allowed herself to let loose, something she otherwise did not do. But Wells was gone and a flicker of hope lay over the camp. She could not help but let go back then. That was long before they knew how bad it would get. And now, now it was so different. Clarke felt like the girl back then was an entirely different person from who she was now. Sometimes she wondered if somewhere along the way, she should have chosen a different path. But then again, would they know about the death wave? Would they have a chance at all? Maybe not. Maybe she should be glad.

But now she got to be glad, that she had Leiana. There weren't many who just...allowed her to be herself. Some saw her as the leader, some saw her as a little kid, no matter what, people tried to push their influence on her every single day. She was just herself and let her be... that part of her that would otherwise be dead and silenced for good. "Oh I remember. Maybe we should bring this back to life. Just for the two of us? Let's just have a party tonight? Here, outside? Drink, eat, have fun! I think there are still berries out there."

Leiana LaCroix

Right there was that. She forgot. Bree wasn't her favorite person, but then again she had little opportunity or time to make friends. And now they few she had were hopefully safely up in spaced or safe in the bunker. Others had made their peace with leaving this earth and so many others had no choice. So many were left outside to die. And their lives were gone now. They were dead and she and Bree were here, the only two people she knew who survived. Clarke sat up slowly. It was weird, knowing that there was a high chance, that she would be able to leave the lab soon enough, to gather food that would probably be poisonous to Bree. And once again she doubted those were thoughts the other blonde immediately entertained, given the fact that she did complain about being stuck with her first and foremost. Maybe this time it would be better for her not to worry. This one was not her fight and should not be her fight.

"You're welcome to leave." Though that would kill her sure as hell. Probably painfully and slowly. Like she was currently very much in pain due to the radiation. She might be able to heal. She hopefully would heal, with the nightblood in her. And she might be able to make more. Her mother was able and she carried what was needed. The lab should hold the rest if the energy would remain up and running. But there was only so much she would be able to do for someone unwilling. "Outside will kill you. But we will run out of food anyway. This place isn't stocked. Or fortified"


Bree

Over the time Clarke has spent with Grounders, she had learned that nothing came for free with their culture. Not even life. And thus an unexpected offer of kindness - or what it looked like - could easily turn sour. As it tended to do. Having to show someone something after such an offer wasn't exactly evoking trust either. Nothing was offered freely. Nothing, especially not from leaders. Maybe it was her saying she was a healer that evoked kindness and a ploy to get her to heal someone. Maybe it was another place without healer and a plan to make her stay. She could not stay. Her ghosts would follow her.

"Thank you. But other clans have offered me this on conditions. What are your conditions for me to learn this skill from you?" She asked. She had to know. She had to get an idea of what she was facing here. She had to get an idea of how honest this person would be to accept that offer.

"Other clans have offered for me to learn from them, too. And yet it always came with conditions I could not agree to. I can not stay in one place. I am not made to stay in one place any longer."

Malia