Octavia has not worked out what all is going on here, except for one fact: she doesn't like it. A lot. Like wants to set things on fire a lot. And why won't someone let her fight a few of the trainees before it boils out of her blood a lot. And she's going to take someone down for their sword in a few minutes a lot. Everything is intensely weird and reminds her too much of one of Bell's later histories, and she hates everything about everything.

She is right in the middle of listing that everything she hates, with a vicious glare at anyone who so much as looks at her, no less considers veering toward her, when a flash of blonde nearby catches her eye. Then, a rush of relief so hard it's almost staggering. Like being punched in the face without knowing you had an opponent to begin with.

"Clarke?"

Octavia, shirt still a spreading wet stain from her dripping hair, hasn't been here long either.