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Carefully, Clarke managed an only slightly shaky 'C', seeing the color settle brightly against her pale skin, before the teacher was calling for the class to put away the coloring supplies and Clarke quickly hid her wrist and looked up guiltily. No one said anything, though, and Clarke shoved the markers in the bin before holding her wrist gently against her stomach.
She tried not to look at everyone else's wrists for the rest of the day. Tried not to see that no one had any green there. Not even the next day, or two days later, until finally she forgot to keep her wrist out of the water when she was washing and it faded away, just like the idea that her soulmate could be here somewhere.
Soulmates are rare. Even more so now that ink is being rationed on the Ark and permanent identifying tattoos are no longer allowed. Distance has never been an obstacle before, though. Not even between the ground and the sky.