Chapter-2

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Atom ducked into Clarke's tent. His shift at the edge of camp had ended and he knew Octavia and Raven had most likely found company for the night. Monty had been his replacement so that meant it was just the blonds. He felt a familiar sense of warmth at the sight of the already prepared palette of furs next to the bed. He supposed they were predictable. None of them liked to sleep alone and gravitated towards each other at night taking comfort in the familiarity and safety in their friends, their family.

Quietly as he could manage in the dark, he stripped down till he was just in his pants and a shirt. Yawning, he stretched his arms over his head before crawling onto the palette. Before he lay down all the way he checked that Clarke and Charlotte were asleep. He was slightly disappointed but not surprised to see the half lidded blue eyes of Clarke watching him from the bed above the pallet. She smiled at him before closing her eyes and pulling Charlotte closer into her arms. He lowered himself into the comfortable furs and fell asleep easily encased in warmth. It had been a long day and he was sure he'd sleep like the dead.

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Clarke roused herself reluctantly at the sound of the morning shift getting the fires going. She gave herself a moment to appreciate the soft sleeping face of Charlotte, who was lying nestled into her. Blaming the commander for forcing her up so early even though she knew she'd have forced herself up early anyways, she slipped out of the bed. It was a bit of a challenge to do so without waking Charlotte but she managed. Reaching down she pulled the furs off Atom and woke the snoring boy enough for him to groan at her. Laughing quietly, she helped him into the bed. It didn't take him more than a grumbled swear to understand before flopping in and pulling Charlotte to him. They'd all learned that Charlotte had debilitating night terrors and should never be left to sleep on her own. Without even thinking about it she moved the furs up and tucked the two in while Atom grumbled before his snoring resumed.

She walked to the trunk of clothing she was forced to bring with her due to her new position as a general. Sometimes it felt like she had been a general for longer than two assignments but then her new luxuries, like the trunk, would remind her of the newness of her position again. Clarke was not even sure what to do with her many new possessions. She pulled on her usual wear. The only ceremonial gear she would wear was the ceremonial throw and pauldron. The fools who dressed formally and impractically to impress could go float themselves. The familiar weight of her coat comforted her as she buttoned it up. The coat was made from the fur and hide of her first kill, just as were her shoulder throw and pauldron. Echo had insisted she keep the pieces as trophies of her skill. Over time her jacket had grown and changed with other pieces sewn on from later kills but it still mainly consisted of the white two headed mutated wolf monstrosity. It had been terrorizing a northern village when she was first sent on a pauna hunt.

Down south she assumed her fur lined jacket may get hot but she didn't care. It had become an extension of herself. The sides had the bones of an aggressive bear pauna sewed in as protection. Pulling out her daggers, Clarke started strapping them on and slipping the smaller ones into various hiding spots. She could feel the calm settling into her like always. After pulling on her boots and strapping the last of her weapons on her person she picked up a jar of white paint. After some consideration she lathered it across her face in broad strokes. If the Trikru disliked the Ice Nation so much, she'd remind them of who exactly they had invited into their lands.

With her head held high she made her way out into the morning light. It was still softly lit. The fires were burning low but they were being stirred up and she could see breakfast rations being prepared. Her morning routine called with the smells of leather, horses, men and women, and metal. Her first stop was the healing tent. Forrest was passed out on one of the cots. Clarke rolled her eyes before kicking his leg.

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