❝ Hell isn't where you go when you die.
It's what you become when everything you love has been taken away. ❞
[ sequel to 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 ]
[ the 100 / season two ]
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tw; panic attack.
Ai Goufa;
"𝐖eapons."
Clove's gaze falls upon the guard, Gustus, observing him. Lincoln's the first to step forward, willingly handing his knife over. The man then turns back to the group as he senses their doubt. "We need to disarm before we enter."
She's come to learn that this village, where she spent several days separated from the group, is Lincoln's home- the village he grew up in. It makes it all so much more bizarre to her. Although, not as bizarre as the thought of traveling back here to reunite Finn with the victims of his slaughter.
Burnt to one; their ash and dust combined with that of the earth.
Clove nearly objects when the grounders' focus settles on her. The grip tightens around the metal of her rifle. Her light expression plunges.
"Clove," Octavia warns through a low mutter. The brunette is lingering close to the blonde, and she has been for the majority of the morning's journey. The two girls have both been finding comfort in each other's company; as if they'd never been separated in the first place.
Green eyes flicker to the girl, catching onto her urgent stare. Resultingly, she hesitantly drops the weapon into the container, jaw clenched as she goes against her instincts.
Her glare sticks to the grounder as he moves past her, although once he's gone from her vision, her eyes land on the familiar man in front of her. Bellamy peeks back, silently raising his eyebrows at her hesitant cooperation.
The girl returns the gesture. She raises her eyebrows back at him, nearly to challenge his approaching warning, earning herself a reluctant smirk from the taller man.
Then comes the repetitive sound of weapons greeting metal. One by one. One by one. And as it seems to last a little too long, their attention gradually tracks the source. Raven stands there, glaring up at Gustus as he disarms her every pocket.
He then turns back to his commander and speaks the language still foreign to Clove's ears.
"Heda. Hogeda clear."
Lexa nods sharply.
As they proceed into the village, Clove's eyes are on the many faces watching their arrival.
"Heda, heda!" The crowd shouts, followed by a series of other words spoken in their own language. Although the group can't translate the words, it takes no interpreter to note the pure bitterness radiating off of them.
