How long had it been? How long had he been wandering the woods alone? The gun hung at his side, cold and unused. It’s sense of protection no longer littered the meaning for him. Without Octavia, there was nothing. There was no color in the world. The trees no longer shone with hues of greens that echoed the brightness of a blue sky. The radiation threat drew closer and he desired to be anywhere but where was safe. He desired to feel the cool drops of rain upon his skin one last time. To feel the warm rays of the sun breach his worn skin as it sparkled the sky above. He desired to take a strole in the basking light of the moon, drinking in its grey tones as the night sky seemed unable to surround it. The way the stars sparkled light years away in their safe manger from the world’s decaying breath, not caring about the savage war that loomed overhead or the deaths that wracked everyone’s core. He had witnessed so much. He had so much blood upon his calloused hands that he could nott was off. he was nothing short of a monster in human flesh, broken, torn a the seams, a sharp piece of glass that no one wanted to touch anymore. He was a lost cause, broken and bruised. He had no desire to survive this world without his sister beeig at his side. He told Clarke to remove his name before he left. She asked where he’d go and in truth, he could’t reply. He had no destination in mind. He no end goal. Whatever shall be, shall be, inlcuding his death if that was what fate would desire but he feels like fate’s sense of humor would make him survive, would keep him suffering. He’s nothing short of a broken shell any longer. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t realize he’s arrived at a camp. A once saf haven for him in the long nights when world shone a lot less darker tune. He could hear them whisper words. Ask questions why there was a sky person in their midst. Why he looked like death walking. He was a Ripah after all. At least in their eyes but he’d welcome their blades and harsh words. He’d welcome anything they threw at him but still, he pushes forward, stopping long enough to rap knuckles across a wooden door and wait. “Scott?” He questions, voice hoarse with the lack of water and food. He desires nothing, yet his body brought him here.
@wolvcs gets a closed starter
