- Denial -

                                    

                                          
179 days after Praimfaya
We haven't seen the Nightblood child these two weeks. Whether she has been spying on us through windows or trees, I'm unsure. 
Clarke and I have spent time recovering. Stitching each other up was an extremely long and painful evening. I went searching for wild lettuce - a natural painkiller - before the process. Monty had mentioned it in a passing conversation but I only remembered the name. It was only partially helpful, experiencing each poke of the needle through torn and tender flesh, but then waking up the next morning completely dazed. 
"It still looks bad," Clarke tells me. She sits on the medical table as I stand before her. Her fingertips traces the diagonal scar that stretches from my right side hairline to almost the left corner of my jaw. The child cut deepest into my cheek. Any facial movement hurts. The stitches are fucked but I drove back to Becca's lab to retrieve needed medication which will ward off any brewing infection. I'm simply grateful she didn't blind me. 
"We should make the walk to the lake today," I tell Clarke. She nods her head in understanding. "Only if you're ready." Her foot is still healing and walking remains difficult, however, she has been cramped inside this room since it happened. 
"Do I get princess treatment?" My sister teases. Her spirits have been raised since we found this child. I'm less excited - more wary. A Nightblood who has been alone out here this whole time... it's a horrible thought. But we need to be careful. 
I haven't thought about ending my life these past weeks. My days are not spent in bed, but looking after my sister, getting our food and cleaning our clothes. Duty calls, Bellamy's vision told me. Maybe he was right. "Of course," I promise my sister. "You wanna hop on my back like old times?" Clarke chuckles softly, nodding as I turn around. She climbs on and I'm careful of her bandaged leg as I try to get a good hold. She grabs the large stick I placed by the door on our way past. As we walk through the village in the direction of the lake, I catch my reflection in one of the windows. Terrible. Hideous. The black wound still seemingly open and raw - a good attempt by my sister as far as stitches go, however they are slightly misguided and it leads to a weird pattern. 
"I still think you're beautiful," Bellamy chimes from where he sits at a small table. My eyes linger on the hallucination as his gaze trails our path. "The most beautiful woman I know."
"Do you think she's still around?" Clarke wonders and I move my gaze back to focus of my steps. "The girl, I mean."
"Yeah," I mutter, understanding her initial comment. "I'm not sure." There have been no traces of the child - no weapons or broken leaves or injured animals. She looked like what- six years of age? I'm surprised she even had the tenacity to stay alive this long. Upon approaching the treeline we know marks the edges of the rocky shorline of the lake, Clarke asks to dismount. I pause, bending, letting her stand by herself safely. But as she does so, her breath hitches. My eyes follow her stare and I spot the girl. Her dirty hair and even dirtier clothes. There is a spear in her hand which causes me to extend my arm in front of Clarke. Wait, that is our spear? She stole it. But the weapon isn't aimed at us. She isn't even looking at us. She is catching fish. "Stay here," I instruct my sister. She opens her mouth to protest but I narrow my stare with a sterness that shows I'm not joking. 
"Fine," Clarke seethes quietly in reply. 
I walk carefully towards the child, my steps light and my intentions peaceful. She is too ocncentrated on the water to pick up on my approach. Then, she throws the spear. A direct hit that imbeds into the lake floor. She retrieves the weapon - a fish impaled to the other side. So this is how she has been surviving. "Can you teach me that?" I wonder. The girls neck twists and her small eyes bore into mine. Deep brown eyes. "You're very beautiful," I compliment. She shifts slightly, taking a step backwards onto a larger rock. "And skilled - but that spear belongs to us." I look over my shoulder to Clarke who is trying to move towards us. She halts when she notices my stare, smiling gently at the girl.