clarke believed THE REAPERS were the only monsters created by the mountain men but she would soon discover how wrong she was. she mourned finn with all her heart ; a part of her died with her first love - she could never be the same girl she used to. he killed for her ; he died for her - there was no coming back. or so she thought.
for a moment she thought that her mind was playing TRICKS on her again - it had to be a hallucination ; finn was dead - she stabbed him right through the heart. and yet ; she couldn’t help but HOPE ; hope that he came back to her. ❝ finn ? ❞ how hard the fall would be.
If time were to have meant something to him he would’ve known he’d been hiking for almost six hours, an easterly wind summoning him into it’s draughts; whistling and leading him towards THEM. When he saw her he felt a sense of elation that could’ve theoretically reawakened the GHOST OF THE BOY he’d once been ---- but nothing was ever that simple. The jubilation was so compelling it made him unsteady; he stood swaying, moving from his right foot to his left and back again, almost as if moving to the beat of a song. “ CLARKE. ” Trained digits grasped for a weapon, and found a switchblade; a tool of the mountain. “ I found you. ”
