Makira's feet pounded against the earth. She was running from everything. From her traditions. From her people and her friends. No...not friends. Acquaintances. She never fit in with the blood thirst and the cruel howls.

She pulled to a halt as she came face with her commander. She tried to back up, only to realize she had been tied to a post the entire time.

Makira burst upright with a gasp. She pushed herself off of the dirt ground she had claimed by the fire. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the two leaders of the camp slip out the front gate. Her fingers lightly grazed the ashes as she brought her hands up to her face.

Grabbing her spear, Makira followed the two outside the restricting gates. She allowed them to always be twenty paces ahead.

She scoffed lightly to herself. By god, the sky people are noisy. And yet, they do not comprehend that they have two separate tails.

Her grip on her weapon tightened. It was getting dark now. The freckled boy exited the bunker with a start and her eyebrows furrowed. Something is wrong.

The rouge seemed to realize it as well, because he was picking up his pace. As he went in for the kill, Makira intervened with a snarl. "Em ste yu heda, yu haihefa!" [He is your leader, your King.]

He made a lunge for Bellamy's gun only to get bitch slapped by the flat blade of Makira's spear.

He stumbled slightly as she kicked him to the ground, stepping on his chest. "Bellamy. What say you? Shall I kill the traitor to right the wrong?"

He didn't answer. "Bellamy? Ai haihefa. Beda ai frag em op? [My king. Should I kill him?]

Still, no answer. Clarke's voice called out. "Do it!"

Without hesitation, Makira muttered "Yu gonplei ste oden" and impaled the teen, killing him instantly.

The three young adults sat against the tree. Makira glanced at the shaikru with an intense stare. "No, you did what you had to do, as do all good leaders. Ai haihefa, you have down well."