| BOOK TWO IN THE SALVATION SERIES |
" I figure, when you've been hurt so much, danger doesn't faze you, pain doesn't hurt you. "
Avalon is a nightblood.
She finds herself trapped. If there was one thing she hated, it was being trapped. She could...
" grief is the love you cannot give, the home you cannot return to. the ocean waves, ebbing and flowing. sometimes the water is calm, other times overwhelming. All you can do is learn to swim. "
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"I can't."
Lungs screaming, my legs give way again. It happens a lot, when I have no control over my body, or my lungs stop working.
The man drags me on my knees for a moment, before seemingly growing agitated. All I know about where we're going is that it's not South, the direction of home, or at least the dropship. That's the only place I know to go.
We're going North, the direction of Polis.
The man scowls at my weak figure before turning around, mumbling some inaudible words before scooping me up with ease.
I flinch, feeling his hands on me, my body sore and weak. But I mask it quickly, a neutral expression crossing my face like a veil, finding it easy to disguise how I felt.
None of which were things I wanted to feel, so I fake it. Almost to the point where I believe myself.
"Why were you by the Mountain? No one goes there, it's feared," I point out, not really afraid of the man. He had weapons on him, but before, he had taken them out. I was terrified of them, but he only glanced at the drill holes in my side before putting the sword away.
He stays silent, blue eyes flitting to me for a moment. Closer up, I can see his features better, the cloth now gone from his mouth. He had scars across his face, of which I find strangely intriguing, wondering where they came from and how they got here. His eyes, a very pale and intense blue. Some facial hair, making me believe he was at least my age, if not a few years older. Then again, how would I know— I was stuck with a bunch of seventeen year olds only weeks ago.
"You wear warrior paint. A warrior wouldn't be here alone." I point out, just trying to get him to talk, reveal anything about himself or where we're going.
I sigh, leaning my head back against his chest out of exhaustion, not realizing the way he stiffens up a moment before relaxing. I give up on trying to make him talk, letting sleep take me.
"Should've brought a wagon or something if you hate carrying me that much."
//\\
THIRD PERSON
Bellamy unwraps his arms from Clarke, her doing the same as they both try to ignore how strange it felt that there were only three of them here. Three, when it started with a hundred and one.
He looks down at Clarke, glancing at Octavia before trying to mask his hope. "How many are with you?" The dark eyes swirl with color, shining with hope for himself, hope for her.
