I was born in a forest. My people, those I was born too, all were. That is why we are called Trigedakru. In Gonasleng you could call us The Woods Clan. [Or various other expletives, depending on who was talking about them in Lexa's experience. Clarke had no hesitation in making it known she thought them to be savages, the mountain thought her people savages, monsters and a source of medicine all at once.
Her steps wobble for a second as she remembers the mountain before she straightens herself up.]
For a long time my home in Polis seemed like more of a prison. Encased in stone, lit by candles rather than the moon or sun. The wind stealing through rotted windows and sneaking under rusted doors instead of whistling through the trees. It was too high up, too unnatural.
It became home, eventually. [Never more than her favourite tree near Tondc or the little caves and hiding spots she and Anya would squeeze into. But it was something, and she had bled for it, those like her had died for it. To not appreciate it seemed like some kind of blasphemy.]
no subject
Her steps wobble for a second as she remembers the mountain before she straightens herself up.]
For a long time my home in Polis seemed like more of a prison. Encased in stone, lit by candles rather than the moon or sun. The wind stealing through rotted windows and sneaking under rusted doors instead of whistling through the trees. It was too high up, too unnatural.
It became home, eventually. [Never more than her favourite tree near Tondc or the little caves and hiding spots she and Anya would squeeze into. But it was something, and she had bled for it, those like her had died for it. To not appreciate it seemed like some kind of blasphemy.]