( she isn't looking for him. doesn't notice him leave, doesn't wonder what he's doing. for as pleasant as their first interaction had been — shiro's advice in terms of building barriers, the brief interlude from her internal torment brought about by the swooping sensation of flying when they'd held hands — clarke hasn't sought him out since. they haven't bumped into each other accidentally, but in such a small party of travelers, it's inevitable.
so while she isn't looking for him, she can see the fabric of the tent rattle when he strikes it; can almost feel the impact of fist on wood if she tries. if he's not yet so lost in his own grief, shiro might feel the press of clarke's consciousness before she even reaches the tent flap; pressing and concerned but muted. it's a type of exhaustion that eclipses grief that hangs about her shoulders, and checking on people — counting them, naming them, assuaging her own fears with the presence of others — is beginning to feel automated.
are you okay? she almost asks. the words are on her lips, but feel useless. are any of them okay right now? some of the newcomers seem to be faring better than the rest, but how long would that last? so instead, she swallows. tries again. )
2
so while she isn't looking for him, she can see the fabric of the tent rattle when he strikes it; can almost feel the impact of fist on wood if she tries. if he's not yet so lost in his own grief, shiro might feel the press of clarke's consciousness before she even reaches the tent flap; pressing and concerned but muted. it's a type of exhaustion that eclipses grief that hangs about her shoulders, and checking on people — counting them, naming them, assuaging her own fears with the presence of others — is beginning to feel automated.
are you okay? she almost asks. the words are on her lips, but feel useless. are any of them okay right now? some of the newcomers seem to be faring better than the rest, but how long would that last? so instead, she swallows. tries again. )
Did that make you feel better?