Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
SEPT 25, 2149 DAY THIRTEEN ON THE GROUND
"THIS IS RAVEN REYES, CALLING ARK STATION."
Dakotadidn'tknow how long Raven had been trying to reach the Ark. By the time she had come to, the brunette was already desperately hunched over her revamped radio on the first floor of the drop ship, acute stress written across her features.
"Stay still." Clarke huffed kindly, crouching in front of the Thompson girl where she sat as she wove tight stitches into her skin, closing up the gaping gash in her head; though her patient wouldn't stop moving. Moonshine had been doused on her skin to numb the pain of the needle.
Dakota was trying futilely to look over Clarke's shoulder, eager to catch a glimpse of the silver sky through the curtains flapping violently in the raging storm. She'd fallen in love with rain the first time she'd experienced it on earth, but it held no candle to the majesty just outside the drop ship. If a dead body hadn't smashed her head into a tree root today, she'd surely be taking her chances of getting struck by lightning and dancing in the downpour.
"Sorry." she smiled sheepishly, the little amount of rest she had gotten so far already helping tremendously in easing her pain and rebuilding her strength. Though the stitches didn't feel amazing.
Fox was wedged into her side, trembling in the midst of the storm, clinging tighter to Dakota with a squeal each time thunder cracked or the drop ship rumbled; not finding the tempest fascinating like the 18 year old did.
Though cold not long ago, the environment had shifted into more tropical weathers with the hurricane among them, sultry and muggy, and everyone being packed tightly inside didn't help. People had ditched their coats and thick socks- though Miller never dare took off his beanie- and resorted to t-shirts and tank tops; their hot bodies covered in sweat, many of them also grimed with dirt and flecks of dried blood. Dakota was enjoying the change, even if not considered pleasant, it was still a new aspect of earth she was getting the chance to experience.
"Please come in. Can anyone hear me?" Raven continued.
"Sure you have the right frequency?" Monroe queried.
"Yeah, I'm sure." the mechanic snapped, sending her a glare with a hand on her headset.
"Raven, you can do this. Okay?" Clarke reassured her calmly, glancing up from Dakota for a moment, who was sitting next to Raven's feet with her back against the metal desk the radio was stationed on.
"Calling Ark Station." she resumed, the weight of her boyfriend's life hanging in the balance on her shoulders.
"Okay, stitches are done." Clarke sighed, positioning a small bandage over Dakota's cut; gingerly securing its edges with her blood-stained fingers, the girl wincing with a sharp inhale.
