‘Rest’ isn’t exactly a word Clarke is familiar with---at least not anymore. Especially lately. They’ve been up for what, a couple days now? Not as if she’s gone without as much sleep before, but it always wears on a person when they finally get a minute to rest. Though this rest is hardly that. Standing on guard while the others sleep is only accomplishing in making her drowsiness catch up with her. Blinking, the blonde paces a couple steps, trying to shake off the stiffness of her legs. She honestly can’t remember the last time she got plenty of rest. It’s impossible to tell.
She’s still not been entirely filled in on what all has been going on. Everything is a mess. Everyone is a wreck. The worst part? No one wants to talk about it. Not a single person, her included. As if ignoring some of the inside problems among all of them is going to make them go away so they can focus on the outside problems. They’re fighting a war on both fronts: the Arkers aligned with A.L.I.E. and the Grounders. Thinking about it makes her head hurt and her heart burn. That, her friends... and then there’s Bellamy. With a sigh she turns, gaze falling on Bellamy. Is he still mad at her? He probably is, though they haven’t had any problems... yet. By now she’s likely jinxing it just by thinking about it. They’re both exhausted, she can look at him and know that. They’ve worked side by side enough for her to know without practically even looking at him.
Clarke turns her head away, looks at her feet, and then back at Bellamy, walking over and settling beside him. Her gaze travels from his recently wrapped hand up to level with his face. She’s got to say something to break the silence. “Fun night, huh?”
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