The 100 Imagines

LEXA x [Y/N] ~Reckless~

(Not mine)
(reckless) You had never been really good at following rules.

It got you on the Dropship; then the stockade when the Ark landed; and now, finally, the Commander's tent.

You hadn't been doing anything harmless, really- just climbing up trees and using the vines in between them to swing back and forth between the trunks.

Clarke had sent you out on a reconnaissance mission to gather intel on the few mountain men on patrol that had been sighted around the mines- and the trees were one way for you to move soundlessly over the terrain without giving yourself away.

It was straining work, but you took solace in being alone- it was so much easier for you to cross the terrain when you weren't lugging around another person who didn't share your gift for climbing trees.

It was a strange thing- tree climbing. Three space-locked generations before had ensured that learning to climb trees hadn't been easy for you- but once you knew, you were unable to let it go. It became your main mode of transport, and after three months- you were pretty much the lord and master of tree climbing. You were well on your way to believing that tree-climbing was in your blood; that the ground, rather than space, was the place you were supposed to be.

You weren't reckless because you had nothing to come back to- your family were alive and well; though that significant other was lacking - but because you were simply good at what you did. You had no reason to believe that you were in any danger, because as far as you knew; you weren't.

Unfortunately, it seemed that even ruling at tree-climbing didn't outrule your rotten luck.

All it had taken was a rotten branch, a wrong landing, a vine that was a little bit too thin at the anchor point- and you were falling to the ground.

Thankfully, you hadn't been far up. It was useless to be high up if you couldn't properly eavesdrop on the mountain men you were supposed to be stalking. And as it was, there was only a metre of two between the branch you were supposed to land on and the ground. Two metres that were being rapidly closed.

You landed with a roll, collapsing your body sideways like you had been taught by Octavia and Lincoln; and springing back upright as your feet touched the ground. You were impressed by your own flawless landing.

Unfortunately, the mountain men were not. A long moment passed where you simply looked at each other and you were struck with an idea. An incredibly stupid idea, but an idea nonetheless. You pointed a finger at them and shouted, "Hey! You're from the Mountain!"

The two men looked at each other, deciding whether or not you were a large enough threat to engage, when you beat them to it. "MOUNTAIN MEN!" You yelled at the top of your lungs, and took off.

They were startled into action, fumbling at the belts for their guns, raising them to your level and firing without delay. Bullets zipped around your head and torso, missing by a miracle's breadth, as you rapidly backed up, swearing the entire way. "After her!" You heard one of the men yell, voice high like a teenager's, and the chase was on.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Shitting, shit, shit, shit, shit," You hissed, ducking this way and that, behind tree and shrub in a desperate attempt to shake the two men that were tailing you back into the forest.

Danger pounded through your veins as your feet skimmed over the ground- running so rapidly you might as well be flying. You knew that the sentry ring around the commander's camp wasn't far away- and that a number of Grounders would be patrolling the area around now.

The men crashed through the underbrush behind you, their feet loud and clomping, and you smirked at the thought that the mountain men would be heard before they were actually sighted.