Chapter Seven

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"Alright! Listen up!" Bellamy yelled as he and Arlean stood on the ramp, over the 100. "Arlean and I have decided it best for us to leave four days from now."

"Yes, and that means we need to work even harder now than before, we need to pack as much food and provisions as we can." Arlean stepped forward.

The 100 nodded in a agreement and Arlean still couldn't understand how they were actually listening to her and Bellamy.

The teens headed off in their separate ways and Arlean paused to search the dispersing crowd for Clark and Wells, Clark's usual scowl was missing from the faces of the 100 when Bellamy and Arlean had addressed them. But she decided not to worry about, Clark could take off if she wanted to. Arlean didn't give a damn about Wells either.

"Octavia, com'n please don't do this." Arlean followed Bellamy's voice to where he was looking very frustrated and arguing with his younger sister who was by far the youngest of all the 100.

"I can do whatever I want." Octavia said stubbornly, acting like the fifteen year old she was.

Bellamy just groaned and rolled his eyes.

Arlean walked over and fought to keep the grin off her face when Octavia's eyes lit up when she saw her.

"What seems to be the problem here?" Arlean questioned.

"Bellamy won't let me go off into the woods with the boys." Octavia told Arlean earnestly; certain she would take her side. "But I can! I'm a lot stronger than he thinks, like you!"

It hadn't taken Arlean long to learn that she was a role model to Bellamy's young sister.

"Well, Octavia, I kinda agree with Bellamy on this one."

"What?" The younger girl's face fell.

"You're not going to help anyone by trying to be something you're not. You're much better off helping where your talents lie. That's how you'll help people."

Arlean placed a hand on Octavia's shoulder. Octavia looked up and a smile suddenly broke across her face. "Okay!" And with that she was back in the direction of camp.

Bellamy exhaled. "Thanks. I didn't know you could be so..."

"Truthful? Yeah, neither did I." Arlean said quietly. "Neither did I."



Bellamy groaned and slowly opened his eyes. Arlean stood casting a shadow over him.

"Com'n get up. There's stuff we gotta do."

"What?" Bellamy groaned again, but sat up and followed Arlean to the edge of the woods.

"What the hell are we doing?" Bellamy asked, sleepily.

"Hunting." She handed him a long weapon.

"Is this a spear?" He asked examining it. "Did you make this?"

"Yep." She dug around in a bag at her waist.

He weighed it. "Its perfectly balanced. You're good at this."

She grinned at him. "Hope you know how to hunt."

"You're lucky, I do." He told her.

Arlean turned and headed into the woods with Bellamy following close behind. They moved silently as a pair.

Finally after at least twenty minutes of crouching behind a log, where Bellamy had predicted a deer would come along, they spotted their prey.

Arlean, quietly pulled out a small knife, which Bellamy recognized as a throwing knife. She pulled her arm slowly back and in one fluid motion released it and sent the knife spinning through the air. It sank into the deer's forehead, a perfect shot.

The deer convulsed and sank to the ground. Arlean exhaled beside him.

"That was amazing!" Bellamy whispered and Arlean smiled.

They crept quietly to the deer and Bellamy slung it over his shoulder. As they walked back to camp, he wondered about what Arlean had told his younger sister this morning. It was the first time he'd seen an actaul part of her, when she let her guard down. Her nonchalant, sarcastic, tough outer shell was a defense- he knew that. Her walls were up high and something or someone had caused her to live constantly like that. On guard from everyone or everything thing.

There was also the fact that she'd been confined for murder, after seeing her throw that knife he had no doubt.

But when she'd stood on that platform, the 100 had seemed to respect her, out of fear or actual respect- he didn't know.

But he seemed to be the only one in the camp who didn't know about her.

Maybe that's why he was the only one who really spoke to her, hung around her and trusted her.

Was he being a fool? Was he being blinded by the way he loved it when she grinned, half a charismatic smirk, half cocky. Or the way she walked, with fluid grace and controlled power.

He shook his head. He, Bellamy Blake was in over his head, with a murderer.

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