After the End [ The 100 ]

35. Interrupting questions is my favorite past time

we are grounders part 2

——eiden

Looking over my shoulder, I watch as the smoke completely disappears under the line of trees. We've walked so far now. We've gotten so far away.

My eyebrows push together the further we get. Every step is taking me closer to never taking a life again — if the Grounder knows what she's talking about. At the same time, it means I have less of a chance of ever seeing the people I love again.

"Watch for that," she says just in time for me to look ahead and narrowly avoid a thick tree root.

My gaze shoots up to her back, "And on that note, maybe another break."

She turns to me with her brow raised in confusion. "I've seen you run. You don't get tired that easily, even with your leg. What are you not telling me?"

She's half right. My leg isn't really bothering me anymore, especially since we aren't running and I actually know how to take care of a wound from having so many.

My own eyebrow lifts with a grin. "The fact that I was born in space, so this seasonal shift is brand new to me," I say with a chuckle.

Actually, there were some cold spells on the Ark and days when solar flares would produce so much heat we'd begin sweating instantly. The cold spells happened more often than the heat, but both were still relatively uncommon compared to the months of winter were about to endure.

In between sighs, she finally says, "Okay, we will stop."

The woman looks around before setting her back on a tree. First she drinks from a bottle of water, then she lowers her head and gets all quiet.

Is she praying? I can't exactly ask that now.

My bow sits on her back, with my arrows around her waist from how I fashioned the holder. She has the same weapon in her hand with her arrows on the other shoulder.

She cracks an eye open. "Well, calm down. You wanted to rest, right."

I nod while she's still looking, and when she closes her eyes again, I turn around.

We're definitely more than twenty miles from camp. At this rate, Clarke and Ali will just be memories for a long time. However long it takes for me to be ready to face them.

[...]

"It's the weather. I'm sorry, it's the weather," I say, stopping again.

By now, those trees from before are lower than the ones behind us now.

"What?" she asks, practically spitting the words out. Her auburn ponytail swings as she continues whacking through things with her bow.

It's only the sound of her boots on the ground, the swishing of leaves, and snapping of branches. Obviously, she notices this too, because she stops. Only now there's three times as much space between us as usual. Or I don't know, I sucked at math.

Under the clouded sunlight, one of the Grounder's eyes squint. "What is this about? Why do you really keep stopping?" she asks, masking her agitation with concern just enough.

Like I said, it's the weather out here. It's changing too much. "I told you, I'm not used to it. Sorry, I'll be good to go."

Since we practically have to yell, she takes a few steps toward me, meaning she's further away from where we're going.

She gestures with her bow. "This is what you want, right? Being this new person is really important to you? I can tell, because you wouldn't have been on your own in the first place if it wasn't."