From the Ashes

48

"'Do not cry
Wolf
Cub, for when the lights leave the dark
Fears
You'"

- Atticus

_____

。・°°・Lovota・°°・。

"Long time no see," Lexa suddenly called out into the woods, causing all her guards to straighten up, Clarke's eyes wandering the green,"Kwin gon de helvetehunder, I thought you died."

"Spokelser hjemsoker Kikon," a woman suddenly replied, the same one Clarke managed to catch sight of, before she disappeared into the ravelling streets of the city.

Watching the guards slightly raise their swords and batons, Lexa rose up her hand,"Lower your weapons, if she wanted to hurt us, she would've done so already."

The three wolves surrounding the horse, which the woman was seated on, snarled - their teeth were like that of moons made for war.

Allowing her horse to step forward, Lovota quickly isolated Clarke in the piercing gaze of her cold stare. An arrow already plucked between her fingers, the string held in her grasp.

"Taim yu laik kom vaere innehaver gon ai mors tittel" Lovota sneered,"Yu souda vaere mest branwada won enna"

"What did she say?" Clarke wondered, noticing the girls accent, the strength in dialect she'd never have even heard of.

"Nothing," Lexa briskly lied,"what brings you here, Lovota?"

Slinging her bow over her shoulder, the girl disregarded the differences in status. Never again, would she bow for anyone but herself.

"De pakstokas," Lovota nodded,"Advarte med gon de skai krus gjor."

"Warned?" Lexa wandered, remembering how the girl always spoke in slight riddles.

"I was coming back to tell you," Lovotas voice suddenly spoke out, catching Clarke off guard,"But noticed your horse on the path... what lays ahead is enough jus kom mal' himmelen rod."

Turning to look at Clarke once more, Lovota raised her arm, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand. She almost seemed to be happy that she knew something they didn't.

"Her people did this," Lovota sneered, suddenly pulling back the large bush that hung before them.

What laid before them, was a meadow now turned to a mass grave.

Suddenly taking off across the field, Lovota did not dare a glance at the ground, in fear of seeing her peoples faces reflected in the blood of Lexas.

Behind her, Lexa, Clarke, and the other guards slid off their horses. Some were too scared to step forth, in fear of drenching their clothes with the blood of their brothers and sisters.

That was all fair and well, but the assassin was on a mission, to scale the lands for survivors. Her heart thundered in her ear, causing all sounds to cease. The only thing truly leading her, were her wolves and her horse.

Slowing to a trot, Lovota forced herself to stare down the fields, watching for movement. She knew what those shiny pieces were on the floor, they were the same weapons that had slaughtered her clan.