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TAYLOR wanted desperately to shake the sinking feeling that war was on the horizon again, but watching Indra leave in a hurry to go tell the Commander that the Ice Nation army was marching on Trikru land was only amplifying that feeling.
The sun beat down on her face in the middle of the field where the grasses were so tall they brushed up to nearly her shoulders when she wondered if they'd ever find peace.
The bodies hadn't been there long, but their motionlessness was enough to make her question just about everything as she struggled to move one of them. With the impending war drums, Pike was right. They couldn't afford anyone thinking they did it.
"Two people, twelve o'clock," Bellamy alerted, gesturing in the direction he was looking at through his scope. "It's Clarke."
He was moving immediately. Taylor paused in her body hiding endeavor to just barely catch a glimpse of dirty, golden hair shining between the grass. Next to her was a larger man with much darker hair and a looming appearance. Pike stopped Bellamy short before he could get any further into the field.
"Get out of my way!" Bellamy demanded, his eyes focused past Pike's shoulder and nothing else. They were so unbelievably close.
"We'll never make it in time," Monty pointed out as Taylor and the others finished hiding the bodies in the nearby brush. The front of the army had emerged into the field — certainly not a welcome sight.
"He's right — we wait out the army and then find Clarke," Pike agreed, Bellamy still looking in the same direction with his scope frantically.
Taylor made her way up to them and gently put her hand on Bellamy's shoulder. "Bell, it's too dangerous," Taylor confirmed reluctantly, giving Clarke's receding figure one last guilty glance. He nodded.
"Guys, there's a cave," Monty told them, pointing off into the distance. Quickly, they all hustled to move their gear and themselves into the cave as quickly as humanly possible.
__________
"I need to know what happened," Monty urged his mother, taking her hand when she seemed hesitant. Taylor stopped listening. This was a private conversation, one that she knew she had absolutely no business intruding on. She completely understood what Monty was going through.
She had lost her father when she was nineteen. There was no easy age to lose a parent at and it didn't stop the pain from being any less potent. But her entire life her father had been there for her. Loving, caring, gone. All in a flash. She sometimes looked up and the stars and thought of him there, floating among them.
