Her nerves are already too frayed to really be upset at Octavia's actions. After the neverending loop of dying or watching others die, watching Bellamy's sister fight like that makes weird amounts of sense. Octavia isn't the girl who grew up under a floor anymore.

"We should," Clarke stops herself, shaking her head as she goes back to watching the screens. "Good for her."

A throb aches at her temple, pulsing from adrenaline and anger and fear. "Do we have any options left?"