As much as Clarke had changed over the last several years, one of the things that hadn't changed was her love of drawing. She sat at a table inside Lightning Brew Pub with a half-full glass of drink, a nearly full plate of fries and her sketch pad open on the table in front of her. The leatherbound diary everyone seemed to have gotten was next to it, but despite how much was going on in her head right now, words seem to fail her when she tried to write about it.
Drawing, though? That was something inspiration came easily for and her pencil flew easily across the paper as she sketched an image of Madi. Clarke was worried about a number of things, both here and back home, but Madi was near the forefront of her mind today. Even though logically she knew that there was a version of her home with her, she still couldn't help worrying about her. The last thing her memories had given her was the sight of that prison transport. Clarke knew it had to be a threat to the life they'd made together in the valley. And the thought of anything happening to Madi petrified her. The girl had become like a daughter to her.
There was her mom, too, and those headaches Clarke had read about when she'd found her mother's diary open one night recently. Had she told Dr. McCoy about them yet? She was going to have to find out and make good on her own promise if not. Clarke didn't know what those headaches could mean, but it couldn't be anything good. She was sure of that much.
Sighing to herself, Clarke reached for her drink and it was then, looking up, that she saw her teammate. Setting down the pencil, Clarke waved her over. "Hey, Clary," she called, offering the redhead a warm smile as she motioned to the seat across from her.