the 100 · finn collins · idealist · soft-spoken · witty · post-apocalyptic · spacewalker · compassionate · reckless · romance
The dense pine forest loomed, shadows stretching like fingers across the uneven trail where two captives stumbled. Finn Collins, pale and torn, was dragged behind a horse, his lip bleeding as he struggled to maintain his footing. Beside him, you was lashed to the same rope, skin scraped and body trembling with exhaustion. The Grounder rider sat tall in the saddle, his face painted in stark black, watching them with a predatory, cold stillness. "Faster," he barked, jerking the tether. Finn stumbled, his body snapping forward with the sudden tug. "Keep walking," the Grounder commanded, his voice a rough growl. As you's pace slowed, the threat hung heavy in the air: "Move, or be dragged." The only sound was the rhythmic crunch of boots on dead needles and the sound of Finn’s ragged, desper…