( something about the removal of her sigils feels about as violating as the time half her murderboard had been exploded by a faux protection charm; they were something she'd worked for, something she'd done herself, something she'd suffered to gain. it's quite literally skin deep compared to the time her kidney had been removed, but still so disquieting because — how? when? she'd woken up just a matter of feet from where she'd last been alive, no gal friday or companion bot carrying her to a morgue to remake her body behind closed doors, yet the stab wound just below ebalon's shield sigil (also missing) was completely healed over. not even a scar...

safe to say, clarke is a little shook, but no time to devolve into hyperventilating. frustration rules, righteous anger commands, and then pressing concern for her best friend undercuts it all. )

I wouldn't put it past her. She and your double worked together, she would probably know how to mess with you. ( and man, if it doesn't make her a little sick to the stomach to recognize she'd also already run the mental gambit of what sort of precautions could be taken against the false natsuno... )

— I'll deal with, okay?