Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
˚ .･*｡༄ "MOM, I NEED YOUR HELP. ONE OF OUR PEOPLE WAS STABBED BY A GROUNDER." Clarke spoke urgently, both Finn and Raven hovering around their friend, Noah's breath becoming shallow.
"Clarke. This is the Chancellor. Are you saying there are survivors on the ground?" The radio echoed, the voice scratchy and only slightly audible, but Clarke understood. And through the radio wasn't her mother, it was Jaha. And Jaha wasn't going to save Noah.
Clarke sputtered, her mind racing a million miles a minute. "Y - yes, Earth is survivable. We're not alone. Just - Mom, she's dying. The knife is still in her."
Her moms mumbled voice echoed in the back, before Jaha spoke up again. "Clarke, is my son with you?"
And finally Clarke takes a pause, sadly glancing at the radio as if she could sympathize through it. "I'm - I'm so sorry. Wells is - Wells is dead."
A moment of silence passes before Jaha speaks into the radio again, his voice heavier than before. "Well, Clarke needs you. Patch her into me when they're finished." The man sighs before he voice disappears from being able to be heard, and then Clarke's mother is back online.
"I'm going to talk you through it, step by step."
Whistling and creaks echo around the dropship, the wind picking up outside, something strong brewing above them. And Abby's voice is cutting in and out, "Clarke — find — just — "
Panicking, Clarke whips to the radio, hoping she could process what her mother attempted to say with the fragments she could hear. "Wha — Raven, what's wrong?"
Raven shakes her head. "It's not the radio, it's the storm." She urges, tinkering with whatever she could to try and make the signal any stronger.
"Clarke, we need to hurry."
The blonde turns as Octavia hustles back into the dropship, two canisters in her hands, something sloshing around inside. She drops them, huffing tiredly as she glances at the girl on the cot. She didn't know too much about Noah, but she'd saved her life a few times, and that seemed like enough to gain her trust for now.
Clarke nods, "Great." She huffs before leaning to smell on the canisters, before retching back at the burning stench. "Ugh. Monty's moonshine?"
Octavia shurgged. "Pretty sure no germ could survive it."
A crack of thunder rattles their bones and the echo of tree branches snapping, it's Earth telling clarke to hurry her ass up, and she knows it. "The storm is getting worse. Finn, round up everyone outside. Monroe, close the doors." She orders, Finn nodding and jogging out of the dropship, gladly stepping away from the sight of his friend dying.
